a 


THE  CLOSING  NET 


'IS  HE  DEAD?"  I  ASKED,  AND  LEANED 
AGAINST  THE   WALL    (page   234) 


THE  CLOSING  NET 


BY 
HENRY  C.  ROWLAND 

AUTHOR  OF  "iN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  PRINCESS, 
"THE  MAGNET,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILL  USTRA  TIONS  B  Y 
A.  C.  MICHAEL 


COPYRIGHT,  1911,  BY  HENRY  C.  ROWLAND  AS  "  CHU,  CHU, 
THE  SHEARER  "  AND  "  LEONTINE  AND  COMPANY  " 

COPYRIGHT,  1912,  BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 


Stack 
Annex 


CONTENTS 

PART  ONE 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  TIDE  WATER  CLAM        ...........  i 

II  THE  TIDE  TURNS    L     ...........  25 

III  LEONTINE  DIGS  IN  THE  SAND  .........  41 

IV  A  BACK  EDDY      .............  59 

V  LEONTINE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH  .........  74 

VI  "  WILL  You  WALK  INTO  MY  PARLOUR  ?  "  .....     94 

VII  AMERICAN  METHODS  ............  105 

VIII  HAWK  AND  RAVEN  ............  116 

IX  THE  FALCON   STRIKES    ...........  128 

X     ROSENTHAL        ..............    142 

XI    AN  HEROIC  LIE  .............  160 

PART  TWO 

I    UNDER  COVER  ..............  175 

II    THE  COUNTESS  ROSALIE  ...........  191 

III  THE  FIRST  ROUND    ............  219 

IV  SANCTUARY      ..............  237 

V    QUICKSANDS     ..............  247 

VI  TEMPTATION    ..............  276 

VII  BACK  INTO  THE  WORLD  ...........  290 

VIII  THE  PASSING  OF  IVAN  ...........  306 

IX  THE  NET  CLOSES  .............  316 

X  INTO  THE  LIGHT  .............  329 


2137993 


"Is    he    dead?"    I    asked,    and    leaned 

against   the   wall.     (Page    234)      .  Frontispiece 

Rosalie Facing  Page  34 

Rosalie  caught  my  drift  and  began  to 

gesticulate.  (Page  199)  .  .  .  "  "  98 

"  What  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  you 

were  talking  to  a  crook?"     (Page 

218)         "  "164 

There  was  a  snarl  of  rage  in  his  voice, 
and  I  began  to  think  that  Ivan  was 
a  more  dangerous  man  than  I  had 
thought.  (Page  273)  ....  "  230 

I  fired  again  and  brought  a  snarl  out  of 

him.     (Page  327) "  "300 


PART  ONE 


CHAPTER  I 

TIDE    WATER   CLAM 

MY  friend,  it's  my  belief  that  when  it  rains  every 
third  drop  lands  on  a  crook.  You've  no  idea  what  a 
lot  there  are,  and  the  only  wonder  is  how  they  make 
a  living.  But  your  most  dangerous  crook  is  the  gen 
tleman  variety,  and  that  was  easy  for  me  because  my 
father's  family  was  about  the  best  in  the  United 
States,  barring  only  my  mother's.  His  stock  was 
pure  English  and  hers  Dutch;  you'll  find  both  names 
in  the  school  histories;  both  families  had  signers  of 
the  ^Declaration.  They  were  both  thoroughbreds, 
all  right.  The  only  trouble  was  that  they  were  never 
married,  and  that  made  a  lot  of  trouble  for  me, 
afterwards. 

[  spent  the  first  six  years  of  my  life  in  a  pretty 
little  cottage  down  Boston  way,  and  about  the 
only  person  I  saw  was  my  old  nursery  governess, 
Ma'm'selle  Durand,  or  Tante  Fi-Fi,  as  I  called  her. 
Then,  as  far  as  I  could  make  out,  my  father  lost  his 
fortune  and  his  nerve  at  the  same  time,  and  they 
found  him  in  his  library  —  dead.  That  settled  my 
mother,  and  a  little  later  Tante  Fi-Fi  faded  away, 
and  I  found  myself  bawling  my  lungs  open  in  the 
state  asylum  for  orphans. 

Young  as  I  was,  I  couldn't  stand  it  very  long,  so 
one  hot  day  in  July  I  ambled  out,  slipped  down  to  a 
pond  that  was  near  by,  hid  my  clothes  under  some 
stones,  and  splashed  around.  Then  I  came  out  cry- 


2  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ing  and  went  up  naked  to  a  farmhouse  and  told  the 
folks  that  the  other  boys  had  swiped  my  clothes  and 
I  was  due  home  three  hours  ago.  They  laughed  at 
first;  then  a  motherly  woman  went  into  the  house  and 
fetched  me  out  some  old  duds  one  of  her  brood  had 
outgrown.  She  said  I  needn't  bother  to  bring  them 
back,  they  weren't  worth  it.  They  were  worth  a  lot 
to  me,  because,  you  see,  they  represented  my  whole 
capital  for  a  start  in  life  on  my  own. 

Well,  I  drifted  around  for  a  few  years,  doing  the 
things  that  most  homeless  kids  do,  I  suppose,  and 
finally  I  got  a  billet  as  cabin-boy  on  a  yacht.  That 
led  to  steward,  and  then  the  family  took  me  into  their 
town  house  as  butler.  It  was  a  low-grade,  flash 
crowd  with  barrels  of  money  and  all  as  crooked  as  a 
switch-back  railway,  men  and  women  both,  so  that 
one  fine  night  when  a  second-story  worker  handed  me 
a  proposition  for  opening  the  back  door  I  said,  "  All 
right,  matey,  on  one  condition  —  that  you  share  up 
even  and  then  teach  me  the  trade!  " 

That  was  how  I  started  my  professional  career. 
Before  that  I'd  only  been  an  amateur,  like  a  good 
many  butlers  and  chauffeurs  and  the  like.  Ever  feel 
any  compunctions?  Nary  one!  There  are  two 
emotions  that  never  touched  me;  one  is  scruple  and 
the  other  fear.  Good  workers  go  down  under  both 
sometimes,  and  if  I  had  been  with  real  swell  people 
at  the  start  it  might  have  been  different.  But  where 
the  boss  of  the  house  buncoes  his  guests  at  bridge  and 
brags  of  it  afterward  to  his  wife,  before  the  butler, 
there  ain't  much  of  an  example  set  to  the  service. 
More  than  that,  everybody  was  always  saying  to  me, 
just  as  you  did  a  little  while  ago,  "  You  look  like  a 


TIDE    WATER  CLAM  3 

gentleman."  And  I  did,  and  behaved  a  darn  sight 
more  like  one  than  the  people  I  waited  on.  The  re 
sult  was  that  I  got  to  thinking  of  myself  as  a  man 
that  wasn't  getting  what  by  rights  belonged  to  him, 
and  I  went  to  work  to  correct  that  with  all  the  nat 
ural  intelligence  I  had  in  me,  which  was  consider 
able. 

For  some  years  I  was  mighty  successful.  Plain 
burglary  was  my  specialty  because  I  liked  the  ex 
citement  of  it;  but  I  was  handy  at  the  side  lines,  too, 
and  when  it  came  to  con  games  or  even  such  youthful 
pranks  as  nicking  a  pocketbook  or  wrist-bag  I  was 
right  on  the  job,  and  here  my  looks  helped  me  a  lot. 
Once  or  twice  I've  bluffed  out  a  sucker  that  as  good 
as  saw  me  take  the  goods.  I  knew  how  to  dress 
and  how  to  walk  into  a  big  ballroom  and  how  to 
order  a  dinner  in  a  swell  restaurant  and  how  to  talk 
to  a  lady  in  the  deck  chair  next  to  mine.  Yes,  my 
son,  I  have  seen  life. 

The  first  time  I  got  pinched,  and  I  tell  it  to  my 
shame,  was  right  here  in  Paris,  and  all  along  of  a 
piece  of  sheer,  light-hearted  foolishness.  I'd  come 
over  from  London  with  a  running-mate,  just  for  a 
spree.  We  were  both  flush  and  doing  the  swell  act. 
It  was  the  week  of  the  Grand  Prix  de  Steeplechase 
out  at  Auteuil,  and  we  went  to  the  races,  not  on 
business,  mind  you,  but  just  for  fun.  While  we 
were  standing  by  the  paying-booth  watching  the 
types  cash  in,  along  comes  a  big,  whiskered  Russian 
with  a  whole  fistful  of  winning  tickets.  The  guy 
handed  him  out  a  big  wad  of  bank-notes,  which  Mr. 
Russian  crams  into  the  side  pocket  of  his  trousers, 
then  saunters  over  to  the  betting-booths. 


4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  That  looks  appetising,"  says  I  to  my  pal. 
"  What  d'ye  want  to  bet  I  can't  take  that  away  from 
Mr.  Bear?" 

"  Lay  ye  a  five-pun'  note,"  says  he. 

"  Done,"  says  I. 

The  betting  was  pretty  brisk.  You  know  how  it 
is  out  there  —  a  lot  of  different  windows  for  differ 
ent  amounts  and  the  bettors  filing  up  between  the 
rails.  The  Russian  goes  to  the  one-hundred-frank 
slip,  and  I  shove  in  beside  him.  There  was  a  crowd 
ahead  of  us,  so  for  the  moment  he  left  his  money 
where  it  was,  waiting  to  get  to  the  window  before 
hauling  it  out.  He  had  on  a  long,  light  overcoat 
with  slash  pockets,  and  watching  my  chance  I  slipped 
my  hand  through  and  felt  for  the  wad.  I  peeled 
one  or  two  bills  off,  and  was  just  cuddling  the  whole 
bunch,  winking  over  my  shoulder  at  Jeff,  when  clip! 
something  closed  on  my  wrist  like  a  bear-trap! 
Body  o'  me !  You'd  never  have  thought  to  find 
such  strength  in  a  human  fist!  His  fingers  closed 
around  my  wrist  like  a  vise,  so  that  I  couldn't  even 
begin  to  straighten  'em  out.  Of  course  I  didn't 
know  it  at  the  time,  but  his  nibs  was  Prince  Kharkoff, 
and  he  was  in  the  habit  of  amusing  his  friends  by 
such  little  parlour  stunts  as  bending  up  five-franc 
pieces  and  tearing  two-sou  pieces  apart! 

'  'Umph!  "  says  he,  blowing  a  mouthful  of  cigar- 
smoke  in  my  face,  and  I  could  see  his  big  white  teeth 
shining  through  his  beard. 

Everybody  looked  around,  and  the  gendarme  who 
was  on  duty  at  the  booths  steps  up. 

Well,  there  wasn't  much  for  me  to  say.  The  cop 
pulled  back  the  overcoat,  and  the  Russian  lugged 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  5 

out  my  fist,  still  full  of  bills!  I  couldn't  open  it, 
mind  you !  Jeff  was  laughing  fit  to  bust,  but  it 
took  three'  cops  to  keep  the  crowd  from  mauling  me. 
"A  I'eau;"  said  they;  "a  I'eau!"  Meaning,  I 
take  it,  to  first  give  me  a  bath  in  the  water-jump. 
That's  the  way  with  Frenchies;  they  love  a  crook,  as 
long  as  he  doesn't  get  nailed.  But  let  him  once  get 
caught,  and  they  want  to  tear  him  apart,  like  a  shot 
wolf  in  the  pack! 

Well,  sir,  it  was  Cayenne  for  mine.  Cayenne 
isn't  in  all  ways  like  Palm  Beach,  and  I  didn't  care 
for  it  much,  but  I  perfected  my  French,  the  La  Vil- 
lette  sort,  and  different  from  my  early  education  in 
that  tongue  with  Tante  Fi-Fi.  In  the  end  I  es 
caped  and  managed  to  get  up  to  Demerara  (George 
town,  you  know),  where  I  joined  the  colony  of  pep 
pers  and  became  what  they  call  a  "  Walla-baby."  A 
Walla-baby  is  an  escaped  French  convict  who  keeps 
alive  by  making  a  nasty  mess  of  sorghum  and 
chopped  cocoanut  and  peddling  it  to  the  nigger 
piccaninnies  at  a  total  net  profit  of  about  five  cents 
a  day.  "  Voila  bebe  Folia,  bebe!  "  says  this  mer 
chant,  and  that's  how  he  got  the  name. 

It  wasn't  much  of  a  job,  even  when  business  was 
brisk,  for  the  son  of  R.  F. —  but  there,  never  mind 
the  name.  My  inherited  financial  talent  kept  me 
from  being  satisfied  even  when  I  made  a  coup  and 
cleared  as  much  as  fifty  cents  a  week,  so  I  pulled  out 
and  stowed  away  on  a  Royal  Mail  ship  for  Trini 
dad,  and  landed  there,  black  and  blue.  The  follow 
ing  day  I  tried  to  get  a  billet  on  an  American  yacht. 
While  the  captain  was  calling  me  several  different 
kinds  of  a  beach-comber  there  came  down  the  deck 


6  THE    CLOSING    NET 

a  crusty-looking  old  lobster,  and  the  minute  he  laid 
eyes  on  me  he  brought  up  all  standing. 

"  I've  seen  this  man  before,"  says  he.  "  What's 
your  name?  " 

I  told  him  one  of  those  I'd  traded  under. 

"  Huh,"  says  he.  "  Don't  know  it."  But  he 
kept  on  staring  at  me,  and  I  thought  that  maybe  he 
had  known  my  father  and  saw  the  likeness.  So  I 
pipes  out,  "  Maybe  you  knew  my  father,  sir."  And 
I  told  him  his  name. 

He  scowled  at  me  for  a  moment,  then  his  face  got 
purple.  '  You  are  a  liar  and  a  scoundrel!  "  says  he. 
"I  know  the  son  of  that  man!  You  are  not  he, 
though  you  do  look  alike,  and  no  doubt  you  have 
found  out  the  resemblance  and  tried  to  work  a  re 
lationship." 

I  stared  him  straight  in  the  eye.  "  Could  you  ac 
count  for  all  of  your  own  children  —  legitimate  and 
illegitimate?  "  I  asked.  Then  I  turned  to  the  gang 
way.  While  I  was  beckoning  to  my  nigger  the  old 
fellow  sings  out: 

"  Hold  on  a  minute.  Captain,  give  that  man 
twenty  dollars  and  let  him  go!  " 

But  I  didn't  wait  for  the  twenty.  Somehow, 
charity  has  always  been  out  of  my  line.  I  don't 
mind  taking  it  by  force  or  stealth,  but  as  a  gift  — 
nit! 

A  week  or  so  later  I  got  a  billet  on  a  boat  bound 
for  New  York,  and  once  there  I  was  all  right-o,  as 
I  had  a  grub-steak  salted  away  where  I  could  get  it; 
and  as  soon  as  I  was  rested  up  a  bit  and  some  of  the 
sugar-fields  fever  rinsed  out  of  me  I  was  back  on  my 
old  job  again.  Butler?  Not  on  your  life!  Thief 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  7 

• —  the  oldest  profession  in  the  world  and  instituted 
by  father  Adam  himself,  or,  to  be  more  accurate,  by 
mother  Eve,  Adam  being  only  the  fence,  like. 

Well,  sir,  as  if  to  compensate  for  all  I'd  been 
through,  everything  ran  my  way  for  a  while.  Then 
they  got  to  watching  me  pretty  close,  so  I  decided 
to  take  a  European  trip  for  my  health.  I  went  to 
London,  but  it  was  early  spring,  and  the  raw  damp 
brought  out  my  fever,  so  I  lit  out  for  Monte  Carlo, 
and  managed  to  drop  the  bulk  of  my  wad,  then  went 
up  to  Paris,  where  the  first  man  I  ran  into  at  the 
Moulin  Rouge  was  my  old  pal,  Jeff. 

We  sat  down  and  had  a  drink,  then  says  he: 
"  Look  here,  Frank,  I'm  off  to  a  swell  supper-party. 
Will  you  come?  Any  friend  of  mine  will  be  wel 
come  there." 

"  Who  are  the  people?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  spread  is  being  given  by  Leontine  Petrov- 
sky,"  says  he.  "She's  a  wonder;  half  French,  half 
Polish.  Nobody  knows  exactly  what  her  lay  is,  but 
she's  a  good  fellow  and  knows  her  little  book.  Some 
say  she's  a  nihilist,  others  say  she's  the  head  of  a 
French  gang  of  thieves.  Whatever  her  game 
may  be  it  pays,  all  right.  She's  got  a  house  over  in 
Passy,  near  Ranelagh.  Come  on;  you  might  meet 
somebody  there  that  'd  be  useful." 

I  agreed,  so  we  piled  into  a  taxi  and  sped  over 
across  the  city.  We  were  both  in  evening  dress  and 
might  have  passed  anywhere  for  a  couple  of  English 
swells  —  the  real  thing.  Jeff  stopped  the  motor  on 
a  corner,  and  we  got  out  and  walked  down  a  quaint 
little  street  and  rang  the  bell  of  a  big  iron  gate  which 
opened  into  a  garden.  A  footman  in  uniform  let  us 


*8  ,  THE    CLOSING    NET 

in,  and  we  followed  him  down  a  path  with  beds  of 
flowers  on  either  side.  The  house  was  a  pretty  lit 
tle  stone  cottage  with  ivy  growing  over  the  walls 
and  a  big  studio  window  at  the  top.  As  we  reached 
the  door  we  heard  a  lot  of  talking  and  laughter, 
which  stopped  suddenly  as  the  door  opened,  then 
went  on  again. 

Four  women  and  two  men  were  in  the  room,  but 
the  only  one  I  had  any  eyes  for  was  a  tall,  dark  girl 
in  an  orange-coloured  chiffon  gown  that  made  her 
look  like  a  nymph  coming  up  out  of  some  gorgeous 
lily.  It  was  cut  lower  than  you'd  see  anywhere  ex 
cept  on  the  French  stage,  and  she  had  a  great  rope 
of  pearls,  almost  as  deep  as  amber,  and  just  match 
ing  her  satin  skin.  I've  seen  some  lovely  women  in 
rny  time,  but  this  girl  was  superhuman  when  it  came 
to  body  and  face  and  the  tone  of  her  voice.  Ev 
erybody  was  in  evening  dress,  of  course,  and  the  first 
glimpse  I  got  of  the  others  made  me  think  I  was  in  a 
sure-enough  swell  crowd.  The  girls  were  pretty, 
and  the  men,  one  a  Pole  and  the  other  a  Frenchman, 
looked  distinguished  and  high  bred.  The  French 
man  wore  the  red  ribbon  and  had  a  fine  face  with 
keen  eyes  and  an  iron-grey  moustache  and  imperial. 

"  Leontine,"  says  Jeff  to  the  beauty,  "  let  me  pre 
sent  my  old  friend  and  comrade,  Francis  Clamart. 
I  found  him  all  alone  at  the  Moulin  Rouge  and 
brought  him  with  me,  knowing  that  you  would  make 
him  welcome." 

I  bowed,  but  Leontine  came  forward  and  gave  me 
her  hand. 

"  M.  Clamart  is  doubly  welcome,"  says  she,  "  on 
my  friend's  account  as  well  as  upon  his  own." 


TIDE    WATER  CLAM  9 

She  looked  me  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  I  felt  the 
blood  coming  into  my  face,  for  never  in  my  life  had 
I  seen  such  eyes  before.  In  my  business  we  get  the 
habit  of  taking  in  any  peculiarity  about  a  person  at 
one  glance,  and  I  saw  that  this  girl's  eyes  were 
tawny  yellow  around  the  pupils,  then  deepened  grad 
ually  into  a  dark  jade-green.  Her  hair  was  thick, 
almost  black,  rather  curly  but  cut  a  bit  short  and 
drawn  snugly  down  over  her  head  and  held  by  a 
gold  band  just  above  her  ears  so  that  the  curls  clus 
tered  around  her  neck. 

"  While  introducing  my  friend,"  says  Jeff,  "  I 
might  add  a  few  of  his  titles.  He  is  also  known  as 
'  His  Lordship,'  <  Wall  Street  Frank,'  '  Tide-Water 
Clam,'  and  '  The  Swell.'  " 

"  Ha !  "  says  the  Frenchman.  "  I  have  heard  of 
you,  camarade! "  He  stepped  over  and  gave  me 
his  hand. 

"  Monsieur  Maxeville,"  says  Leontine,  with  a 
smile,  "  is  also  a  celebrity.  No  doubt  you  have 
heard  of  '  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur  '?  " 

I  had,  of  course,  because  my  profession  has  its 
cracks  as  well  as  its  cracksmen.  The  Pole  I  had 
never  heard  of,  but  they  told  me  that  his  work  was 
mostly  executive,  having  an  able  gang  under  him  to 
carry  out  his  ideas.  The  girls  were  two  of  them 
"  souris  d'hotel,"  literally  "  hotel  mice,"  the  French 
slang  for  second-story  workers.  Their  game  was  to 
get  a  billet  as  governess  or  companion  or  some 
thing  of  the  sort,  locate  jewels,  money,  or  other  valu 
ables  as  well  as  the  habits  of  the  family,  then  give 
up  the  position  and  send  some  one  to  work  the 
house. 


io  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Well,  we  chatted  for  a  while  and  had  a  drink  or 
two,  and  pretty  soon  another  man  came  in.  He  was 
Italian  and  a  sort  of  executive  officer  of  the  Pole. 
Then  supper  was  served  in  a  gem  of  a  Louis  XV  din 
ing-room  with  all  the  good  things  to  eat  you  can 
think  of  and  vintage  champagne,  but  I  noticed  that 
nobody  drank  much.  People  at  the  head  of  any 
profession  don't,  I  notice;  the  two  things  don't  go 
together,  perhaps  in  mine  less  than  in  any  other,  be 
cause  with  us  defeat  means  not  only  failure  but  our 
finish. 

The  wine  did  take  off  the  little  edge  of  formality, 
however,  and  pretty  soon  we  were  having  no  end  of 
fun,  and  from  the  stories  going  around  you  might 
have  thought  you  were  at  a  swell  English  house- 
party,  or  at  some  French  chateau,  or  trailing  with  the 
smart  set  in  Newport.  Leontine  drank  more  than 
anybody  else,  and  pretty  soon  she  had  everybody  on 
the  go.  Then  Jeff  started  in  and  told  them  the 
story  of  how  I  had  got  pinched  at  Auteuil  and  de 
ported  to  Cayenne.  But  when  he  told  who  had 
nailed  me  there  was  a  moment  of  astonished  silence 
and  then  a  roar  of  laughter.  Chu-Chu  leaned  be 
hind  the  girl,  who  was  sitting  between  us,  and 
whispered  to  me  that  it  was  Prince  Kharkoff  himself 
who  was  paying  for  the  hospitality  we  were  enjoy 
ing,  though  of  course  he  didn't  know  it! 

"  He  is  mad  over  Leontine,"  says  he,  and  I  an 
swered  that  the  prince  was  a  man  of  taste.  But  it 
set  me  thinking. 

Then  somebody  asked  me  about  Cayenne,  and  I 
told  them  the  tale  and  afterward  about  my  candy 
business  at  Georgetown.  The  "  Walla-baby  "  story 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  n 

tickled  them  almost  to  death,  and  Leontine  laughed 
until  she  might  have  fallen  out  of  her  chair  if  I 
hadn't  slipped  my  arm  around  her  waist.  She  sort 
of  caught  her  breath  and  gave  me  a  look  that  made 
my  head  swim.  From  that  moment  she  talked  al 
most  entirely  to  me,  and  I  told  her  about  my  work. 
Con  games  and  daylight  second-story  work  didn't 
seem  to  appeal  to  her  much,  but  she  was  clean  fasci 
nated  by  burglary.  She  listened  to  one  of  my  yarns, 
and  when  I  had  finished  she  asked, 

"  Have  you  ever  —  killed?  " 

I  shook  my  head.  "  No,"  I  answered.  "  To 
my  way  of  thinking,  killing  is  a  dirty  business  un 
worthy  of  a  high-class  workman.  I  carry  a  gun  just 
for  a  bluff,  if  need  be,  but  it  is  never  loaded.  I  am 
a  burglar,  not  an  assassin,  and  if  I  can't  carry  off  a 
job  without  killing  somebody,  then  I'll  get  put  away. 
To  my  mind,"  said  I,  "  burglary  is  just  as  much  an 
art  as  painting  or  music  or  literature  or  sculpture.  I 
take  pride  in  being  a  master-craftsman.  It's  the 
clumsy,  awkward  bungler,  usually  some  ignorant 
tough,  that  goes  charging  around  a  house,  waking 
everybody  up,  and  relying  on  his  gun  to  pull  him 
through  that  brings  discredit  on  the  profession  and 
makes  it  so  hard  for  the  rest  of  us  when  we  get 
nipped.  But  we  are  all  on  the  same  footing  where 
our  lives  are  concerned,  so  life  I  will  not  take,  except 
in  a  fair  fight  or  to  square  an  account." 

Leontine  looked  across  the  table.  "  Chu-Chu 
hasn't  any  such  principles,"  says  she,  lifting  her  chin 
a  little. 

;'  Every  man  to  his  taste,"  said  I.  "  But  when  it 
comes  right  down  to  a  question  of  cold  nerve  it 


12  THE    CLOSING    NET 

strikes  me  that  it  needs  more  to  work  unarmed  than 
to  know  that  you've  got  a  gun  to  fall  back  on.  Be 
sides,  it's  better  practice;  it  makes  you  a  lot  cleaner 
in  your  technique." 

She  looked  at  me  and  nodded,  her  eyes  like  emer 
alds  in  the  dark.  "  Oh,"  says  she,  "  it  must  be  de 
licious  !  Such  tension !  The  night,  the  blackness  all 
about,  the  stealth,  the  listening;  eyes,  ears,  touch, 
every  sense  alert  and  keyed  to  the  highest  pitch,  like 
a  tiger  stalking  its  prey  in  the  black  jungle!  I 
should  love  to  feel  it!  " 

"  Have  you  never  tried?  "  I  asked,  looking  at  her 
curiously. 

"  No.  Never  in  that  way.  I  have  done  things 
like  it,  but  not  looking  for  jewels  or  money." 

Jeff  interrupted  just  at  this  moment  to  crack  some 
joke  about  "  our  absent  host."  I  saw  an  angry  flash 
in  Leontine's  eyes,  but  before  she  could  answer  I 
said  to  Jeff  : 

"  Speaking  about  Kharkoff  reminds  me  that  I 
never  paid  you  that  bet.  Five  pounds,  wasn't  it?  " 
I  pulled  out  my  pocketbook  and  handed  him  a  hun 
dred-franc  note  with  twenty-five  in  gold  and  silver. 
"  Is  that  near  enough?  "  said  I. 

He  took  it  with  a  laugh.  "  Never  mind  the 
twenty-tWo  sous,"  says  he.  "  Sure  you  can  spare  it? 
You  told  me  you  got  singed  down  at  Monte." 

"  Oh,  I've  got  enough  to  take  me  home,"  I  an 
swered,  laughing. 

Leontine  gave  me  a  quick  look.  "  If  you  need  any 
money,"  says  she,  "  I'll  be  your  banker." 

I  thanked  her  and  said  that  I  thought  I  could 
manage  until  I  got  home,  but  she  wasn't  satisfied. 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  13 

"  Why  don't  you  do  a  job  here?  "  says  she. 

"  Here  in  Paris?  "  I  answered. 

"  Yes.  We  can  find  you  something."  Quick  as 
a  flash  she  turned  to  the  Pole.  "  Ivan,"  says  she, 
"  our  guest,  M.  Clamart,  is  in  need  of  money. 
Haven't  you  something  that  you  could  turn  over  to 
him?" 

Everybody  stopped  talking  and  looked  at  the  Pole. 
He  drew  his  silky  black  moustache  through  his  fingers 
and  smiled. 

"  That  would  be  interesting,"  says  Chu-Chu.  "  I 
should  like  to  see  a  demonstration  of  the  skill  of  my 
American  comrade.  Come,  Ivan,  surely  you  have 
some  little  work  that  you  might  turn  over  to  M. 
Clamart." 

This  sounds  funny  to  you,  maybe,  but  it  was  rea 
sonable  enough.  Just  like  as  if  I  might  have  been  any 
other  kind  of  a  foreign  sport,  a  pigeon-shooter  or 
jockey  or  something  like  that.  Ivan  smiled  again, 
then  drew  a  note-book  out  of  his  pocket  and  began 
to  turn  the  pages. 

Leontine  looked  at  me.  "  Ivan,"  says  she,  in  her 
low  voice,  "  is  the  one  who  arranges  most  of  this 
work  here  in  Paris.  He  has  the  entree  to  many 
-good  houses,  and  when  he  goes  into  society  he  is  on 
the  lookout  for  an  opening.  When  he  finds  one  he 
turns  it  over  to  some  of  his  people,  giving  them  all 
the  necessary  information.  Listen." 

The  Pole  was  studying  his  note-book.  Presently 
he  looked  up  and  smiled.  "  Here  is  something 
which  ought  to  pay,"  says  he,  "  and  which  should  not 
greatly  tax  the  skill  of  so  distinguished  an  expert 
as  our  friend.  It  is  a  private  house  on  the  Boule- 


i4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

vard  des  Invalides,  standing  back  in  a  garden  which 
surrounds  it  on  all  sides,  the  whole  enclosed  by  a  high 
wall.  The  occupants,"  he  smiled,  "  are  your  com 
patriots,  M.  Clamart,  an  American  gentleman  and 
his  wife.  She  has  very  fine  jewels.  When  I  dined 
there  not  long  ago  I  estimated  her  pearls  at  fifty 
thousand  francs,  while  her  rings  and  tiara  should 
double  that  amount  in  value.  When  I  admired  the 
pearls  she  told  me  that  she  was  fond  of  jewels  and 
had  some  very  fine  ones.  No  doubt  these  jewels,  to 
gether  with  the  gold  and  silver  table-service,  which  is 
very  good,  are  kept  in  an  old-fashioned  safe  built 
into  the  wall  of  the  dining-room  and  rather  clumsily 
concealed  by  a  portiere.  I  have  here  a  map  of  the 
house  and  grounds  and  a  plan  of  the  entresol.  For 
the  rings,  it  will  be  necessary  to  enter  the  room  of 
madame.  No  doubt  they  will  be  found  on  the  dress 
ing-table;  but  they  are  of  lesser  importance.  If  you 
wish  to  undertake  the  work,  then  go  ahead.  What 
ever  you  may  be  so  fortunate  as  to  find  you  may 
bring  to  my  office,  and  we  will  settle  the  matter  ac 
cording  to  the  usual  terms." 

Leontine  looked  at  me  with  eyes  like  brilliants. 
"  Let  me  go  with  you !  "  says  she. 

"  Ah,  no !  "  says  the  Pole.  "  That  would  not 
do!" 

"  Ivan,"  cries  Leontine,  "  I  insist.  I  want  the  ex 
perience !  The  excitement!"  She  turned  to  me. 
"  You  will  let  me  go,  will  you  not?  "  she  begged,  for 
all  the  world  like  a  child  that  wants  to  be  taken  on  a 
picnic. 

Everybody  laughed,  and  I  glanced  at  my  watch. 
It  was  just  two  o'clock." 


TIDE    WATER  CLAM  15 

"  All  right,"  said  I.     "  Come  along." 

This  made  them  laugh  even  harder,  though  no 
body  took  it  seriously.  When  I  explained  that  I 
meant  business,  and  was  ready  to  do  the  trick  then 
and  there,  they  stopped  laughing  and  looked  aston 
ished. 

"  There  you  have  American  methods!  "  says  Jeff. 
"  No  time  like  the  present,  eh,  old  pal?  " 

"  But  you  have  not  yet  looked  over  the  ground!  " 
cries  Chu-Chu,  flinging  out  his  hands. 

"  I'll  do  that  when  I  get  there,"  said  I.  "  That's 
my  custom.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  go  prying 
around  beforehand,  unless  the  job  is  very  compli 
cated,  which,  from  all  accounts,  this  is  not.  I  am 
just  like  a  European  nobleman  —  at  home  in  any 
rich  man's  house." 

There  was  another  laugh;  Leontine  gave  me  a 
look  that  set  my  heart  to  hammering. 

"  How  about  tools?  "  asks  Jeff. 

"  I  will  stop  at  my  hotel  and  run  up  and  get 
what  I  need.  I  always  carry  them  with  me," 
said  I. 

Well,  it  was  a  bit  wild,  but  it  was  a  wild  crowd, 
and  the  idea  hit  them  in  the  eye.  There  was  a  dash 
and  go  to  it  which  struck  their  crooked  natures  in  the 
right  spot,  so  when  Leontine  jumped  up  and  swore 
that  she  was  going  to  have  a  hand  in  the  game,  no 
body  had  a  word  of  protest. 

"  I've  got  a  maillot  upstairs,"  says  she.  "  I  had 
it  made  for  a  masquerade  to  which  I  went  as  a  souris 
d'hotel." 

"  Where  you  stole  the  hearts  of  all  the  men,"  says 
Chu-Chu. 


16  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  All  right,"  said  I.  "  Get  your  maillot,  but  be 
quick  about  it,  for  we  haven't  much  time." 

Leontine  spun  about  with  her  eyes  flashing  and  her 
cheeks  all  aglow.  "  Here  is  a  plan,"  says  she. 
"  What  if  I  order  the  motor  and  we  all  go  down  to 
gether?  The  rest  of  you  can  wait  near  by  while  we 
go  in  and  get  the  stuff.  Then  we  will  come  back 
here  and  finish  our  supper-party." 

Everybody  howled  with  delight.  It  was  crazy, 
but  crazy  games  made  on  the  spur  of  the  moment 
have  always  appealed  to  me,  and  besides,  I  felt  a 
sort  of  national  pride  in  showing  those  foreign  crooks 
how  we  do  things  at  home. 

It  wasn't  long  before  we  heard  the  girls  laughing 
in  the  antechamber  and  here  was  Leontine,  standing 
in  the  doorway  like  some  wonderful  statue  of  a 
woman  carved  in  coal.  Her  full-length  black  mail 
lot  began  with  a  hood  which  covered  all  of  her  head 
but  the  face,  encased  her  straight  round  neck,  and 
swept  in  lovely  curves  right  to  the  floor,  clothing 
every  inch  of  her  but  the  white,  gleaming  face.  She 
wore  a  little  black  silk  mask,  and  her  eyes  blazed 
through  the  oval  slits  like  two  quivering  jewels, 
while  her  red  lips  curled  up  in  a  sort  of  mocking 
smile. 

For  a  moment  everybody  was  speechless,  sheer 
dumb  with  the  wonder  of  her.  Then  I  heard  Ivan 
gasp  under  his  breath, 

"  La  femme  du  diable!  " 

Body  o'  me !  But  she  looked  like  the  devil's  wife. 
She  wasn't  divine  by  a  long  shot,  and  certainly  she 
wasn't  human !  Just  for  a  moment  she  stood  there, 
enjoying  the  effect  she  made,  then  she  picked  up  a 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  17 

long  cloak  with  a  hood  and  flung  it  over  her 
shoulders. 

"  The  car  is  waiting,"  says  she;  "  let  us  go."  She 
turned  to  me.  "  Here  is  a  mask  I  cut  for  you  from 
some  black  stuff." 

We  were  all  a  little  quiet  as  we  got  into  the  car, 
a  big  touring  affair  with  a  double  row  of  seats.  I 
told  the  chauffeur  to  go  to  my  hotel,  and  presently 
we  pulled  up  in  front  of  the  door.  I  ran  up  and 
filled  the  pockets  of  my  overcoat  with  what  I  thought 
I  might  need,  then  ran  down  and  out,  wondering 
what  the  gold-laced  concierge  who  opened  the  door 
of  the  car  for  me  would  think  if  he  knew  that  the 
gay  swell  he  was  serving  was  a  burglar  on  the  way  to 
a  job! 

"  What  now?  "  asks  Ivan,  who  was  now  driving 
the  car. 

"  Go  to  the  house,"  said  I,  getting  up  beside  him, 
"  and  stop  directly  in  front  of  the  door." 

"What  do  you  propose  to  do?  "  says  he,  letting 
in  the  clutch. 

"  You  will  see.  I'm  not  quite  sure  myself.  Wait 
until  we  get  there,"  I  answered. 

It  was  then  about  a  quarter  to  three,  and  a  little 
drizzle  of  rain  was  falling.  We  sped  across  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  all  gleaming  and  glistening 
with  the  lamplight  on  the  wet  pavement,  then  across 
the  river  by  the  Pont  Alexandre  III,  and  around  the 
Invalides.  A  minute  later  we  pulled  up  in  front  of 
a  high  stone  wall,  over  the  top  of  which  rose  the 
branches  of  big  trees,  black  and  dripping  with  the 
rain.  The  street  was  deserted,  so  far  as  I  could  see, 
so  I  jumped  out  and  crossed  the  sidewalk  to  a  small 


i8  THE    CLOSING    NET 

iron  door  which  was  beside  the  big  gates  of  the 
driveway.  The  little  door  looked  pretty  solid,  and 
I  was  afraid  of  an  alarm,  so  I  stepped  to  the  big 
gates  and  was  up  and  over  like  a  cat.  A  quick  ex 
amination  of  the  door  showed  me  that  there  were  no 
wires  and  that  it  was  locked  and  bolted  on  the  inside, 
so  I  slid  the  bolt,  and  in  two  minutes  had  picked  the 
lock  and  swung  back  the  door.  Then  I  walked  out 
to  the  car. 

"  Come  on,"  I  said  to  Leontine.  "  The  rest  of 
you  wait  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  We  won't 
be  long." 

Leontine  followed  me  through  the  door.  For  a 
minute  I  waited,  looking  up  and  down  the  street. 
There  were  one  or  two  distant  figures,  but  nobody 
near  by. 

"Bravo,  mon  ami!  "  says  the  girl.  "  You  lose  no 
time." 

"  There's  none  to  lose,"  said  I,  and  shut  the  door 
gently  and  slid  one  of  the  bolts.  Then  we  stepped 
into  the  wet  shrubbery,  and  a  moment  later  the  grey 
walls  of  the  house  rose  through  the  foliage  ahead. 
I  chose  one  of  the  long  French  windows  of  the  din 
ing-room  and  examined  the  shutters.  They  were 
iron  and  bolted  on  the  inside,  but  a  little  scientific 
work  with  the  hack-saw  and  I  had  them  open  and 
stood  listening  carefully  for  any  alarm.  Then  I 
cut  an  armhole  in  the  window,  and  holding  the  glass 
carefully  with  the  adhesive  wax,  removed  it  and 
reached  in  and  turned  the  knob.  A  moment  later 
we  were  in  the  house. 

"  Here  we  are  in  the  dining-room,"  I  whispered 
to  Leontine.  "  Now  for  the  safe." 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  19 

We  found  it  just  where  Ivan  had  said.  It  was  a 
clumsy,  old-fashioned  box.  Leontine  held  the  light 
on  it  from  my  little  pocket-lamp,  and  it  needed  only 
a  few  minutes'  work  before  I  had  it  open.  The 
gold  and  silver  stuff  was  all  there,  every  bit  of  it 
solid,  and  as  soon  as  I  had  stowed  it  in  the  sack  I 
forced  the  little  drawers,  and  sure  enough,  here  were 
the  jewels  —  a  splendid  rope  of  pearls,  a  tiara  of 
brilliants,  and  a  lot  of  small  pieces,  rings,  brooches, 
and  the  like.  In  no  time  we  had  the  safe  stripped 
of  everything  that  we  wanted. 

"  Now  let's  go,"  I  whispered.  "  We've  licked 
the  cream  off  this  jug!  " 

But  the  sight  of  the  jewels  had  got  Leontine  ex 
cited. 

"  There  must  be  some  more  jewellery  upstairs," 
says  she.  "  Let's  get  all  that  there  is." 

"  No,"  said  I.  "  It's  not  worth  the  risk.  We 
are  well  paid  for  the  job.  Let's  get  away." 

"  But  I  want  the  rest,"  she  whispered.  "  And  I 
want  the  fun  of  getting  it.  This  has  been  too  easy." 
She  moved  toward  the  door.  "  Come,  let's  go  up." 

I  slipped  my  arm  around  her  waist  and  drew  her 
back.  "  Don't  be  silly,"  said  I.  '  That  is  the  way 
people  get  in  trouble.  We've  had  our  lark  and  made 
a  good  haul;  don't  spoil  it  all." 

I  was  drawing  her  gently  back  as  I  spoke.  She 
yielded  a  little  at  first.  Suddenly  she  turned,  with  a 
low,  whispering  laugh,  threw  both  her  arms  around 
my  neck,  and  drew  my  face  to  hers.  I  felt  her  rich 
lips  against  mine. 

"  Now  can  I  have  my  way,  Frank?  "  says  she, 
with  a  low,  gurgling  little  laugh. 


20  THE    CLOSING    NET 

I  dropped  the  sack,  and  it  fell  with  a  clatter,  but 
neither  of  us  noticed  it.  With  both  arms  clasping 
her  tight  I  whispered, 

"  Yes,  for  another  kiss." 

She  kissed  me  again,  then  again.  "  Now  will 
you  come  with  me  to  get  the  rings?"  she  panted. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  and  loosed  my  hold  of  her. 

Picking  up  the  sack,  I  carried  it  to  the  window  and 
dropped  it  softly  on  the  ground,  outside.  We 
passed  out  through  the  drawing-room  and  into  the 
antechamber,  then  stopped  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
to  listen.  There  was  not  a  sound.  Up  the  stairs 
we  stole,  stepping  close  to  the  wall  to  lessen  the 
chance  of  creaking  planks,  but  there  was  no  danger, 
for  the  stairway  was  of  heavy  oak.  On  a  landing 
we  stopped  again.  It  was  silent  as  the  grave,  and 
about  as  dark,  but  for  some  reason  I  did  not  like  it. 
A  burglar  gets  to  have  instincts,  like  a  wild  animal 
or  a  cat  or  any  other  prowler,  and  several  times  mine 
have  warned  me  of  danger  and  saved  my  pelt  before 
there  was  actually  anything  that  came  within  the 
range  of  the  ordinary  senses.  It's  an  uncanny  feel 
ing,  and  the  only  one  that  has  ever  made  me  nervous. 
Danger  that  you  have  positive  evidence  of  ain't  hard 
to  face  or  get  around,  but  danger  that  you  feel  in  the 
air  without  being  able  actually  to  sense  is  mighty  un 
settling. 

I  put  out  my  hand  behind  me,  and  it  fell  on  Leon- 
tine's  shoulder,  and  rested  there.  For  a  full  three 
minutes  we  stood  like  two  statues.  Then  the  clocks 
of  St.  Francis  Xavier  and  the  Invalides  struck  the 
half-hour,  and  I  realised  that  it  must  be  getting  day 
light  outside. 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  21 

"  We'd  better  go.  It's  daylight  now,  and  there's 
something  here  I  don't  like,"  I  whispered  to  Leon- 
tine. 

For  answer  she  clasped  my  hand  tight  in  hers  and 
pushed  her  face  forward  until  her  lips  were  against 
my  ear  and  I  could  feel  her  breath  on  my  cheek. 

"  You  promised,"  she  whispered,  almost  plead 
ingly.  "  Surely  you  are  not  afraid !  And  there  may 
be  another  kiss  for  you  when  it's  all  done!  " 

I  didn't  answer,  but  started  ahead.  We  reached 
the  top  of  the  stairs  and  passed  softly  down  the  hall, 
for  I  judged  that  madame's  room  would  be  in  the 
front  of  the  house  and  probably  on  the  southeast 
corner.  As  we  reached  the  end  I  could  see  that  the 
dawn  was  coming,  for  there  was  a  pale-grey  light 
through  the  window.  Then  all  at  once  I  had  the 
same  nasty  sensation  of  danger  close  at  hand,  this 
time  even  stronger,  and  I  cursed  myself  for  a  fool  to 
have  listened  to  the  girl.  We  stopped  again,  and 
I  whispered: 

"  I  don't  like  this.     There's  somebody  around  — " 

That  was  as  far  as  I  got,  for  there  came  a  sharp 
click  from  behind  us,  then  a  blaze  of  light,  and  there 
we  were  standing  in  the  full  glare  of  the  electric 
lamps  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall,  while  not  ten  feet 
away,  between  us  and  the  stairs,  stood  a  tall  man 
in  pajamas,  with  a  big  black  revolver  at  half-arm, 
ready  to  cut  down  and  shoot. 

Leontine  gave  a  choked  little  scream  and  lurched 
back  against  me.  She  was  between  the  man  and 
myself.  But  the  girl  was  game,  and  suddenly  she 
reached  behind  her  and  shoved  a  gun  into  my  hand. 
I  saw  my  chance,  because  the  man  balked  at  firing  on 


22  THE    CLOSING    NET 

a  woman,  and  for  the  sake  of  Leontine  I  might  have 
dropped  him. 

But  as  I  glanced  at  his  face  my  heart  seemed  to 
stop  beating.  For  there  in  front  of  me  was  my  own 
living,  breathing  image!  There  were  the  same 
clean-cut  features  inherited  from  generations  of 
aristocrats;  the  same  flat  cheeks  and  straight  brows, 
with  the  same  blue  eyes  shining  out  beneath;  the  same 
light,  close-cropped  moustache  and  short  crisp  hair 
and  the  ears  set  trim  and  close,  high  on  the  side  of 
the  narrow  head.  By  George,  if  I'd  stepped  in 
front  of  a  mirror  the  likeness  couldn't  have  been 
cleaner!  And  I  knew  in  that  moment  that  the  man 
was  my  closest  blood  kinsman,  my  half-brother.  I 
knew  that  he  had  married  a  rich  woman  and  lived  in 
Paris,  but  I  had  never  known  where. 

"  Shoot!  Shoot!  "  Leontine  was  hissing  in  my 
ear. 

But  the  man  had  got  himself  together.  I  saw 
his  face  set  and  stiffen  and  knew  that  something  was 
going  to  happen  quick,  so  I  shoved  Leontine  behind 
me  and  faced  him,  the  gun  in  my  hand.  His  keen 
eye  caught  the  flash  of  it,  then  bang!  and  I  felt  a 
bullet  tearing  through  my  upper  arm.  Bang!  and 
he  fired  again.  But  at  the  same  moment  I  leaped 
forward,  and  though  the  powder  scorched  my  face 
the  bullet  only  creased  the  scalp.  The  next  sec 
ond  I  had  both  arms  around  him,  and  down  the  stairs 
we  fell,  over  and  over,  to  the  landing.  His  head 
struck  something,  and  he  went  limp  in  my  grip. 

"Run!"  I  yelled  at  Leontine.  "  Now's  your 
chance !  Run !  " 

She  swept  down  and  past  me  like  a  black  leopard- 


TIDE   WATER  CLAM  23 

ess,  but  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she  stopped  and 
looked  back. 

"Come!"  she  cried,  her  heart  in  her  voice. 
"Come!" 

I  scrambled  to  my  feet,  and  together  we  rushed 
through  the  drawing-room,  through  the  dining-room, 
and  across  the  garden  to  the  gate.  The  car  was  on 
the  other  side  of  the  street,  the  motor  running. 
Leontine  darted  for  it,  but  at  the  same  moment  a 
policeman  came  running  around  the  corner  of  the 
wall. 

"  Here's  a  sacrifice  play,"  said  I  to  myself.  You 
see,  the  cop  could  have  caught  the  car  before  it  got 
under  way,  and  it  seemed  better  for  one  to  get  nabbed 
than  for  all.  So  as  he  came  I  tackled  him,  football 
fashion,  and  down  we  went  in  a  heap.  As  we  were 
struggling  there  in  the  street  I  saw  Jeff  jump  out  and 
haul  Leontine  into  the  limousine;  then  the  car  shot 
ahead  and  disappeared  in  the  grey  dawn  across  the 
Place  Vauban. 

Well,  I  lay  there  in  the  middle  of  the  street  hug 
ging  my  French  cop  as  if  I  loved  him  until  I  was  sure 
that  the  car  was  well  clear.  One  arm  was  out  of 
action  but  even  then  I  could  have  wrenched  loose 
and  handed  him  a  jolt  on  the  side  of  the  jaw  that 
would  have  kept  him  quiet  while  I  did  my  getaway 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  bunch  of  soldier  boys  who  had 
been  out  on  leave  from  the  garrison  at  the  Invalides 
and  happened  to  come  along  at  just  that  moment. 
Seeing  the  agent  struggling  with  a  man  in  the  street, 
they  hopped  in  to  help  and  a  moment  later  I  was 
stretched  out  with  a  big  dragoon  sitting  on  my  chest 
and  the  horse's  tail  in  his  helmet  tickling  my  face 


24  THE    CLOSING    NET 

while  the  agent  whistled  for  help.  It  doesn't  take 
long  to  draw  a  crowd  at  any  moment  of  the  day  or 
night  in  Paris  and  while  I  was  waiting  there  in  the 
hands  of  four  or  five  cops  in  the  middle  of  a  gang 
that  wanted  to  lynch  me,  the  iron  door  opened  and 
out  came  the  master  of  the  house.  He  pushed 
through  the  crowd  and  took  a  look  at  my  face  under 
the  glare  of  the  street  lamp. 

My  mask  had  been  torn  off  in  the  scuffle  and  as  his 
eyes  rested  on  me  I  saw  that  he  was  struck  by  the 
same  likeness  which  had  saved  his  life  a  few  minutes 
before. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  not  hurt,"  said  I. 

"Who  the  devil  are  you?"  he  asked,  staring  at 
me. 

"  A  captured  burglar,"   I  answered. 

"  But  who  are  you?"  he  insisted.  "You  don't 
look  like  a  burglar." 

"  Come  around  to  the  station  in  the  morning  and 
I'll  tell  you,"  I  answered.  "  We  don't  want  to 
make  a  family  scandal  here  in  the  street." 

"What  the  deuce  are  you  talking  about?"  he 
demanded. 

"  Oh,  come  around  in  the  morning  if  you're  so 
interested,"  I  answered,  and  not  very  steadily  for 
my  arm  was  giving  me  the  devil,  particularly  as  one 
of  the  cops  was  swinging  to  it.  Besides,  I  had 
lost  a  good  bit  of  blood.  Then,  things  began  to 
spin  and  I  heard  him  asking  questions  of  the  agents 
and  that's  the  last  that  I  knew  until  I  came  around 
a  little  later  and  found  myself  in  a  cell  with  a  young 
chap  who  seemed  to  be  a  surgeon  bending  over  me. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   TIDE   TURNS 

THE  police  surgeon  had  just  finished  dressing  my 
arm  and  sent  me  back  to  the  cell  when  the  door  was 
unlocked  and  who  should  come  in  but  the  man  whom 
I'd  gone  to  rob  the  night  before. 

The  jailer  closed  the  door  behind  him  and  for 
a  moment  we  stood  looking  at  each  other  without  a 
word  said.  Seen  in  the  light  of  day  I  wondered  why 
it  had  seemed  like  looking  into  a  mirror  when  I  had 
first  sighted  him  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  nervous  tension  that  he  had  been  under  at 
that  moment  which  had  made  the  resemblance  be 
tween  us  so  strong,  for  as  I  saw  him  now  he  was  a 
big,  good-natured  looking  fellow,  twenty  pounds 
heavier  than  I  and  his  face  showed  signs  of  high 
living. 

His  eyes  fell  on  my  bandaged  arm. 

"  Are  you  badly  hurt?  "  he  asked. 

"  It's  nothing  much,"  I  answered.  "  The  doctor 
says  your  bullet  gouged  the  bone  but  it's  not  broken. 
Wounds  heal  quickly  with  me." 

He  stared  at  me  for  an  instant,  then  asked: — 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  Can't  you  guess?  "  I  answered. 

He  nodded.  '  Yes,"  said  he,  "  you  are  my  half 
brother." 

"  Not  quite  that,"  I  answered.  "  We  may  have 
had  the  same  father,  but  that  doesn't  mean  much." 

25 


26  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  It  means  a  good  deal  to  me,"  he  answered. 
"What  is  your  name?" 

"  I've  got  several,"  said  I,  "  '  Tide-water  Clam,' 
4  The  Swell,'  '  Gentleman  Frank  '  .  .  .  " 

"  Oh,  chuck  all  that,"  said  he,  "  and  don't  be  so 
confounded  bitter.  Can't  you  guess  that  I'm  here  to 
try  to  get  you  out  of  this  scrape?  " 

I  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  without  speaking. 
I'd  thought  that  he'd  come  out  of  curiosity,  and 
maybe  to  rub  it  in  a  little. 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  get  me  out  of  it?  "  I  asked. 
"  I'm  a  burglar  and  I've  got  what  was  coming  to 
me  .  .  .  what's  coming  to  any  other  burglar. 
Let  it  go  at  that." 

He  studied  me  for  a  second,  then  asked: 

"  Why  didn't  you  shoot  at  me,  last  night.  You 
started  to,  then  stopped." 

"  I'm  not  a  gun  man,"  I  answered. 

"  It  wasn't  that,"  said  he.  "  You  knew  who  I 
was." 

"  I  didn't  until  I  saw  your  face,"  I  answered. 
"  Then  I  couldn't  help  but  guess.  The  girl  shoved 
the  gun  into  my  hand." 

"  I  saw  that,"  said  he.  "  Do  you  know  my 
name?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  are  John  Cuttynge,"  I  answered. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I'm  John.  What's  your  name, 
old  chap?" 

"  Frank  Clamart  is  what  they  called  me,"  I  mut 
tered.  "  Old  Tante  Fi-Fi  came  from  Clamart  and 
named  me  after  her  birthplace.  Why?  " 

"  Brothers  ought  to  know  each  other's  names," 
said  John. 


THE    TIDE   TURNS  27 

"  And  you  would  like  to  claim  me  as  a  brother?  " 
I  asked,  sarcastically. 

"  Drop  it,  Frank,"  said  John.  "  See  here 
.  you  look  rather  gone.  What  do  you  say 
to  a  drink?" 

"  I  could  do  with  one." 

He  turned  and  banged  on  the  door,  then  when  the 
jailer  came  sent  him  out  for  a  bottle  of  champagne. 
I  noticed  that  his  French  was  as  good  as  mine. 

"  My  dear  chap,"  said  John,  presently,  "  I  don't 
pretend  to  be  very  bright,  but  I  know  something  of 
your  history  and  that  you  have  been  forced  into  all 
this  business  by  force  of  circumstance.  You've  never 
had  a  square  deal.  There's  not  a  wrong  line  in  your 
face.  Won't  you  loosen  up  a  bit  and  tell  me  some 
thing  about  yourself?  " 

There  was  something  mighty  winning  in  the  tone 
of  his  voice  and  before  I  realised  it  I  was  telling  him 
the  story  of  my  life.  The  jailer  came  back  with  the 
champagne  and  a  couple  of  glasses  and  we  had  a 
drink  and  a  cigarette  while  I  was  spinning  my  yarn. 
John  listened  without  interrupting. 

"  Look  here,  Frank,"  said  he,  when  I  had  finished, 
"  we  must  get  you  out  of  this." 

"  You're  mighty  good,"  I  answered,  "  but  there's 
nothing  you  can  do.  I'm  an  old  offender  —  a  reci- 
diviste,  all  catalogued  and  bertilloned.  I've  done 
my  little  trick  in  Cayenne,  and  this  time  it's  au  bat  d' 
Afrique  for  me." 

;'  I'm  not  so  sure,"  says  he.  ;t  I've  got  some 
strong  influence  in  official  and  diplomatic  circles. 
Suppose  I  manage  it,  will  you  give  me  your  word  to 
live  strictly  on  the  square?" 


28  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"A  thief's  word?"  I  asked. 

"My  brother's  word,"  says  John;  "that's  good 
enough  for  me." 

Say,  my  friend,  would  you  think  me  capable  of 
tears?  Me,  a  post-graduate  American  crook,  and 
as  hard  as  nails?  I  didn't  shed  them,  but  they  were 
in  my  eyes  and  a  lump  in  my  throat,  and  I  had  to 
get  up  and  walk  to  the  grated  window. 

"  Will  you  give  it?  "  asked  John. 

"  Yes,"  I  muttered. 

"  Your  hand  on  it,"  says  he. 

"A  thief's  hand?" 

"  My  brother's  hand." 

My  right  arm  was  in  bandages,  from  his  bullet,  so 
I  turned  and  held  out  the  left. 

"Here's  the  left,"  said  I.  "That's  all  right, 
though,  seein'  that  I'm  your  brother  on  the  wrong 
side." 

"  You're  my  brother  on  the  right  side  from  now 
on,"  says  he,  and  gave  me  a  hearty  grip  and  then 
turned  to  the  door. 

"  Now  I'll  get  busy,"  says  he,  and  went  out  with 
out  looking  back. 

Well,  sir,  how  he  managed  it  I  don't  know,  but 
two  weeks  later  I  walked  out  with  him  a  free  man. 
His  car  was  waiting  at  the  door. 

"Where  now,  John?"  I  asked. 

"  Home,"  says  he.  "  You  are  to  stop  with  us, 
Frank,  until  we  make  up  our  minds  what  you'd  bet 
ter  do.  Edith  expects  you  and  we  have  sent  to  the 
hotel  for  your  things." 

Now  what  do  you  think  of  that?  Only  three 
weeks  before  Leontine  Petrovski  and  I  had  broken 


THE    TIDE   TURNS  29 

into  this  man's  house  —  not  knowing  who  he  was, 
of  course  —  to  steal  his  wife's  jewels.  He  had  sur 
prised  us,  like  I  told  you,  and  to  save  Leontine  I 
would  have  shot  him  dead  only  that  his  resemblance 
to  me  told  me  who  he  was.  In  spite  of  this,  here 
was  the  man  that  I'd  gone  to  rob  going  my  bond,  get 
ting  me  out  of  a  life  sentence  perhaps,  and  then, 
insisting  on  my  living  at  his  house  until  I  got  a  fresh 
start  on  the  level ! 

But  I  balked  dead. 

"  That  don't  go,  John,"  said  I.  "  My  nerve 
never  failed  me  yet,  but  it  ain't  up  to  meeting  your 
wife." 

'  Then  get  it  up,"  says  he,  with  his  good-natured 
smile.  "  Edith  is  the  one  who's  doing  the  whole 
thing." 

"What's  that?"  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  old  chap.  She's  the  one  you've  got  to 
thank.  You  see,  Frank,  Edith  has  all  the  money. 
Our  father  died  bankrupt,  otherwise  you  would  not 
have  been  a  burglar.  I  could  never  make  a  dollar 
to  save  my  life,  though  I  hope  to  pretty  soon;  and 
that's  something  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about." 

But  I  shook  my  head.  You  see,  I  had  thought  all 
the  time  that  John  was  a  rich  man  in  his  own  right; 
that  he  might  have  saved  something  from  the  wreck 
when  the  old  man  went  broke  and  blew  his  brains 
out;  then  made  good  investments  and  pulled  out  well 
off.  Looking  at  it  that  way,  it  was  all  right  if  he 
wanted  to  pay  up  a  score  for  the  father  of  us  both. 
But  to  be  an  object  of  charity  to  a  woman  who  owed 
me  nothing  but  the  good  chance  of  losing  her  jewels 
—  that  wouldn't  do. 


30  THE    CLOSING    NET 

John  saw  what  was  passing  in  my  mind  and  laid 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Come,  Frank,"  says  he,  "  you'll  feel  differently 
about  it  when  you've  met  her.  She's  not  a  usual 
woman,  old  chap;  she's  a  sort  of  angel  on  earth. 
,You  want  to  thank  her,  anyway,  don't  you?  Come, 
jump  in." 

So  in  I  got,  but  as  we  moved  off  I  said: 

"  What  will  your  friends  say  when  they  know  that 
your  half-brother  is  —  or  was  —  a  crook?  " 

"  They  will  never  know  it,"  he  answered.  "  I've 
taken  care  of  that.  These  people  at  the  Sante  think 
it  was  a  domestic  scandal;  an  effort  to  get  posses 
sion  of  some  family  jewels  that  you  laid  claim  to. 
The  prefecture  knows,  but  that  bureau  knows  lots  of 
things  that  would  set  Society  by  the  ears  if  they  ever 
got  out.  You  are  under  bond  and  under  observation 
to  some  extent,  but  what  does  that  matter,  since 
you've  chucked  the  old  game?  I've  got  something 
in  view  for  you  now,  but  we'll  discuss  that  later." 

Before  many  minutes  the  car  drew  up  in  front  of 
the  same  big  gate  that  I  had  scaled  that  night  while 
Ivan  and  Chu-Chu  and  Jeff  and  the  girls  waited  in 
the  motor  to  see  a  demonstration  of  snappy  Amer 
ican  methods  —  and  came  so  near  getting  pinched, 
doing  it.  We  crossed  the  garden,  and  let  me  tell 
you,  sir,  my  heart  was  beating  a  lot  faster  than  it 
did  the  night  I  first  laid  eyes  on  that  old,  Renaissance 
house. 

"  Madame  is  in  the  studio,"  said  the  maitre 
d'hotel  as  he  opened  the  door.  He  gave  me  a  quick, 
curious  look,  for  at  first  glance  the  resemblance  be 
tween  John  and  myself  is  almost  that  of  twins.  I 


THE    TIDE   TURNS  31 

was  dressed  like  a  swell,  for  John  had  brought  me 
down  some  of  his  own  things,  I  having  been  in  even 
ing  clothes  when  pinched  the  night  of  Leontine's 
supper  party. 

"  Let's  go  out  to  the  studio,"  said  John.  "  Edith 
is  at  work  on  her  Salon  picture." 

So  out  we  went,  and  John  rapped  at  the  door  of  a 
pretty  little  vine-covered  building,  placed  well  clear 
of  the  big  trees.  From  inside  a  clear  voice  called: 
"  Entrez." 

My  friend,  I  shall  never  forget  that  picture;  not 
the  one  on  the  easel,  but  Edith  as  she  turned  to  greet 
us.  You  know  her,  of  course,  and  appreciate  what 
a  lovely  creature  she  is,  with  her  tall,  queenly  figure 
and  wonderful  great  eyes.  They  are  not  woman's 
eyes;  they  are  more  the  eyes  of  some  splendid  arch 
angel  guarding  the  gates  of  Paradise;  clear  and 
steadfast  and  deep  as  Heaven  itself.  She  was  in 
her  paint-blouse,  standing  in  front  of  a  big  canvas,  a 
portrait,  and  posing  in  the  middle  of  the  studio  was 
an  uncommonly  beautiful  girl  in  evening  dress  and  a 
great  rope  of  gorgeous  pearls. 

Edith  laid  down  her  palette  and  brushes  and  came 
forward  with  a  smile  on  her  sweet  mouth  and  a  tinge 
of  colour  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Welcome,  Frank,"  she  said,  then  glanced  from 
me  to  her  husband  and  laughed. 

"  You  are  like  as  two  peas,"  she  said.  "  I  don't 
wonder  that  you  got  a  dreadful  start  when  you  saw 
John." 

She  gave  me  her  hand  and  I  took  it  in  a  sort  of 
daze.  Then  I  looked  at  the  girl  who  was  posing. 
Edith  smiled. 


32  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Miss  Dalghren  is  one  of  our  family,  Frank,"  she 
said.  "  She  was  here  that  night  and  knows  the 
whole  story.  You  are  with  your  own  people,  Frank, 
so  you  are  not  to  feel  uncomfortable.  Do  you  know 
what  a  Bishop  of  London  is  said  to  have  once  re- 
ma. ked  when  he  watched  a  man  being  led  to  the 
gallows?  'There,  but  for  the  grace  of  God,  goes 
myself.'  The  grace  of  God  has  brought  you  to  us, 
Frank,  and  all  of  the  old  dead  past  has  got  to  bury 
its  dead."  Her  lovely,  sensitive  mouth  curved  in 
the  sweetest  little  smile,  which  drew  one  corner 
lower  than  the  other,  and  her  big  eyes  grew  dark 
and  deep,  suddenly,  and  seemed  to  look  through 
mine  to  see  what  was  behind  them.  "  The  inter 
ment  is  already  going  on,  Frank  —  but  I  don't  see 
any  mourners.  Now,  you  men  must  run  out  and  let 
me  make  the  most  of  my  light.  My  picture  is  'way 
behind."  She  looked  at  John.  "  Show  Frank  his 
room,"  she  said,  "  and  see  that  he  has  everything 
that  he  needs.  You  may  come  back  for  tea,  at  five, 
if  you  like." 

I  got  out  of  the  studio  like  a  man  in  a  dream. 
John  closed  the  door,  then  looked  at  me  and  laughed. 

"  How  do  you  feel  about  it  now,  old  chap?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  feel,"  said  I,  in  a  shaky  sort  of  voice,  "  a  good 
deal  as  I  imagine  Jeanne  d'Arc  may  have  felt  when 
the  angel  brought  her  the  banner."  I  spun  around 
and  stared  at  him.  "  What  did  you  ever  do  to  de 
serve  a  wife  like  that?  " 

John  laughed.  "  Nothing,"  says  he,  "  and  I 
don't  deserve  her." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  house  and  I  followed,  still 


THE    TIDE    TURNS  33 

rather  dazed.  You  see,  the  reception  I'd  had  was 
so  different  from  what  I  expected.  It  was  so  cor 
dial  and  natural,  even  while  not  ignoring  the  real 
state  of  affairs.  There  was  none  of  the  fuss  I'd 
dreaded  being  made  over  the  reformed  criminal  — 
especially  when  it  was  a  case  of  reform  or  pencil 
servitude;  and  on  the  other  hand  there  was  no  silly 
pretence  that  I  was  just  like  the  rest  of  their  sort. 
The  sentimental  mush  that  is  served  out  to  the  ex- 
thief  by  a  certain  class  of  people  is  almost  enough  to 
keep  the  self-respecting  crook  from  tufning  honest, 
unless  he's  hard  up  against  it;  but  there  was  nothing 
of  that  sort  here.  Some  folks  seem  to  think  that  a 
criminal  is  an  entirely  different  sort  of  human  being, 
but  my  experience  in  the  Under-World  had  shown 
that  there's  a  lot  of  honesty  in  most  crooks,  just  the 
same  as  there's  a  lot  of  crookedness  in  many  honest 
folk,  and  that  the  difference  is  principally  in  circum 
stance.  But  even  then,  you  do  find  once  in  a  great 
while  what  seems  to  be  the  unmixed  bad,  just  as 
there  is  the  unmixed  good.  This  yarn  is  a  story  of 
both,  and  a  few  between. 

John  took  me  to  his  smoking-room  and  we  sat 
down  and  each  lighted  a  cigarette.  I  noticed  his 
furniture  and  pictures,  and  he  seemed  a  bit  surprised 
to  find  that  I  understood  periods  and  art.  He 
touched  the  bell  and  ordered  whisky  and  soda. 
When  it  came  I  declined,  never  touching  anything 
except  a  little  wine  with  meals. 

"  You  don't  drink?  "  he  asked,  pouring  himself 
out  a  pretty  stiff  one. 

"  Never  hard  stuff,"  I  answered.  "  That  was 
too  risky  in  my  old  trade." 


34  THE    CLOSING   NET 

"  It's  always  risky  in  any  trade,"  said  he,  "  and 
still  riskier  when  you  haven't  any  trade  at 
all."  And  his  face  darkened  a  little.  He  set 
down  his  half-emptied  glass  and  looked  at  me 
curiously. 

"  Now  that  you've  met  Edith,"  said  he,  "  don't 
you  see  what  I  meant  when  I  said  that  she  was  not 
like  most  women?  " 

"Yes;  I  see." 

"  And  you  don't  feel  the  same  way  about  taking 
help  from  her?  " 

"  No,"  said  I;  "  I'd  take  help  from  her  just  as 
I'd  take  it  from  God." 

He  raised  his  eyebrows  a  little. 

"You  believe  in  God?"  he  asked. 

"  Most  people  who  carry  their  lives  in  their 
hands  believe  in  God,"  I  answered.  "  But  the 
trouble  is,  my  kind  don't  feel  as  if  they  had  any 
great  reason  for  loving  Him." 

John  nodded,  took  another  swallow,  then  gave 
me  a  quick,  curious  look. 

"Did  you  notice  the  girl  who  was  posing?"  he 
asked. 

"  Yes.     She  is  very  beautiful." 

"She  is  a  Miss  Dalghren,"  said  John.  "Her 
father  was  a  promoter  and  made  a  big  fortune  in 
different  schemes;  mines  principally.  Then  he  took 
to  stock  gambling  and  lost  it  all  and  died  bankrupt 
-just  as  our  father  did.  All  that  she  got  after 
the  smash  were  those  pearls  she  was  wearing,  a 
magnificent  string  that  she  had  from.1  her  mother. 
She  gives  music  lessons  here  in  Paris." 

"Singing?" 


ROSALIE 


THE    TIDE    TURNS  35 

"  Yes,  and  the  piano.  She  plays  the  harp  very 
well,  also." 

We  talked  for  a  while  and  then  John  took  me 
to  see  his  library.  I  noticed  that  he  helped  him 
self  to  another  drink  before  leaving  the  room. 
There  was  nothing  in  this,  of  course,  but  his  manner 
of  doing  it  was  queer;  quick  and  furtive,  as  if  he 
wanted  to  gulp  it  down  before  anybody  came  in. 
We  spent  the  rest  of  the  hour  looking  at  his  old 
volumes,  and  he  was  surprised  to  see  that  I  knew 
books,  too.  Then,  says  John: 

"  Come  on,  Frank.  It's  five.  We  can  go  back 
to  the  studio  now." 

Edith  had  finished  her  painting  and  was  sitting 
on  the  divan  talking  with  Miss  Dalghren.  The  old 
maitre  d'hotel  brought  in  the  tea  things  and  a  de 
canter  of  whisky.  Miss  Dalghren  poured  the  tea. 

"  How  do  you  like  it?  "  she  asked  me. 

"  Perhaps  Frank  would  rather  have  whisky," 
said  Edith. 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  I  prefer  the  tea." 

She  handed  me  a  cup  and  I  stirred  it  slowly. 
Then  I  felt  Edith's  eyes  on  me  and  looked  up.  She 
gave  her  crooked  little  smile. 

"  Really,  Frank,"  she  said,  "  you  and  John  are 
as  like  as  you  can  be." 

"  On  the  outside,  perhaps,"  I  answered. 

Her  deep  grey  eyes  looked  into  mine  as  if  she  was 
trying  to  see  all  that  was  inside.  Usually,  when  a 
person  goes  prospecting  in  my  thoughts  this  way 
I  pull  the  dead-light  over  my  "  lanterns  of  the 
soul."  But  there  was  something  here  that  went 
through  the  shutter  like  radium.  Perhaps  it  was 


36  THE    CLOSING    NET 

because  everybody  else  had  always  looked  me  in  the 
eyes  hunting  for  something  bad,  while  Edith  seemed 
to  be  looking  not  for,  but  at,  something  that  was 
good.  It  must  have  been  that,  for  her  sweet  mouth 
seemed  to  soften  and  she  smiled  again. 

'  You  are  all  right  inside,"  she  said,  quietly. 
'  Your  education  has  been  wrong,  that's  all." 

"  I  was  educated  for  a  thief,"  I  answered,  in  the 
same  tone;  "  and  so  far  as  the  education  went  I  was 
always  considered  a  credit  to  it." 

Perhaps  it  wasn't  a  nice  thing  to  say,  but  for 
some  reason  I  wanted  to  justify  myself.  I  wanted 
her  to  know  how  I  came  to  belong  to  the  Under- 
World.  Perhaps  she  understood  and  wished  me  to 
understand  that  no  explanation  was  necessary,  for 
she  said: 

''  Whatever  you  set  yourself  to  do  you  will  do 
strongly,  Frank,  and  without  fear.  Weakness 
will  never  be  your  fault.  How  old  are  you, 
Frank?" 

"  Thirty-two,"  I  told  her. 

"  Six  years  younger  than  John,"  she  said,  "  but 
you  look  to  be  the  same  age." 

"  Nobody  ever  discovered  the  fountain  of  youth 
at  Cayenne,"  said  I;  "a  year  there  is  worth  five 
anywhere  else." 

Miss  Dalghren  had  not  said  a  word,  but  I  felt 
her  watching  me  closely.  She  was  a  beautiful  girl, 
of  the  big,  Diana  sort,  with  a  rather  square  face 
and  blazing,  blue  eyes;  the  sort  of  woman  that  looks 
as  if  she  was  meant  to  be  the  mother  of  good  fight 
ing  men. 

"  Why  did  you  enter  this  house?  "  she  said. 


THE    TIDE    TURNS  37 

I  told  them  the  story  of  how  Jeff  had  taken  me 
to  Leontine's  swell  supper  party — leaving  out 
names  and  places,  of  course  —  and  how  I  had  of 
fered  to  rob  John's  house  more  to  show  off  than 
anything  else,  and  as  a  demonstration  of  American 
methods  for  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur  and  Ivan,  the 
head  of  the  mob.  When  I  told  them  how  Leontine 
had  insisted  on  coming  with  me  for  the  sheer  excite 
ment  of  the  thing,  although  not  a  professional  thief 
herself,  Miss  Dalghren's  blue  eyes  sparkled. 

"  I  can  understand  that,"  she  said.  "  Is  she 
very  beautiful,  this  woman?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "she's  a  big,  gorgeous  sort 
of  tigress." 

"She  rather  fancied  you,  eh?"  said  John. 

"  Such  women  have  fierce,  sudden  fancies,"  I  an 
swered.  "  No  doubt  hers  may  have  rested  on  me 
for  the  hour.  I  never  saw  her  until  that  night.  It 
was  her  gun  that  I  had  when  you  fired.  I  never 
carry  a  loaded  gun  myself  when  doing  a  piece  of 
work." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Miss  Dalghren. 

"  It's  not  sportsmanlike.  Besides,  I  wouldn't 
take  the  life  of  people  defending  their  property. 
I  always  felt  that  if  I  failed  to  pull  off  the  job  by 
skill  I'd  take  the  consequences.  That  makes  the 
game  all  the  more  interesting." 

'  Then  you  burgled  less  for  the  goods  than  for 
the  game?  " 

'  I  was  out  for  both,"  I  answered.  "  Mind  you, 
I  don't  pose  for  a  kid-glove  burglar.  Once  or  twice 
when  I've  been  interrupted  I've  bluffed  out  the 
householder  by  the  roughest  sort  of  treatment. 


38  THE    CLOSING    NET 

But  I  must  say  the  game  has  always  appealed  to  me 
as  much  as  the  loot.  I  might  be  compared  to  a  big- 
game  hunter:  I  liked  the  stalk  and  I  liked  the  bag. 
Most  men  have  got  a  plundering  instinct  —  and 
some  women,  too.  Soldiers  loot  when  they  get  the 
chance." 

"  From  an  enemy,"  said  Miss  Dalghren. 

"  Society  and  I  were  enemies,"  I  answered. 
"  Society  declared  war  on  me  when  I  was  a  help 
less  little  kiddy.  I  felt,  when  I  grew  up,  that  it 
owed  me  a  lot.  So  I  sailed  in  to  collect." 

Edith  looked  at  me  with  a  little  smile. 

"  But  the  war  is  over  now,  Frank?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  The  war  is  over  and  peace  is 
signed,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  never  break 
it.  You  and  your  husband  have  paid  Society's  war 
debt  to  me  in  full  and  we  are  square.  From  now 
on  I  live  within  the  law." 

"Bravo!"  said  John.  His  hand  went  out  to 
the  decanter  in  a  careless  sort  of  way,  but  I  noticed 
again  that  worried,  furtive  look  in  his  eyes.  Edith 
saw  it,  too,  though  she  pretended  not  to,  and  a 
shadow  rested  on  her  lovely  face.  It  passed 
quickly,  but  it  struck  me  suddenly  that  here,  per 
haps,  was  the  explanation  for  the  note  of  sadness 
that  showed  in  all  of  her  work. 

We  were  to  go  to  the  Opera  that  night  and  at 
dinner  Edith  wore  her  magnificent  pearl  necklace, 
the  one  that  Ivan  had  told  me  about.  They  were 
uncommon  pearls,  but  it  struck  me  that  Miss  Dal- 
ghren's  were  even  finer.  The  girl  noticed  my  eyes 
resting  on  them  and  asked,  with  a  smile: 

"  Aren't  they  beauties?  " 


THE    TIDE    TURNS  39 

"  Superb,"  I  answered.  "  I  doubt  if  I  ever  saw 
finer  ones." 

"Do  they  arouse  your  cupidity?" 

"  Not  one  bit,"  I  answered.  "  No  more  than  a 
stag  in  a  man's  park  would  arouse  the  cupidity  of 
a  sportsman." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  John,  in  his  easy  voice,  "  that 
even  when  in  active  business  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
honour  amongst  thieves?" 

"  A  good  deal,"  I  answered,  "  but  you  can't 
always  bank  on  it;  any  more  than  you  can  on  honour 
amongst  politicians  or  high  financiers.  Still,  there's 
a  certain  amount.  There  is  a  man  in  this  city  who 
arranges  for  the  theft  of  such  jewels  as  these.  He 
supplies  the  cracksman  with  the  necessary  informa 
tion  and  details  one  of  his  mob  to  do  the  job.  Very 
often  the  chief  is  not  dead  sure  himself  as  to 
what  other  jewels  there  may  be,  and  which  are  real 
and  which  are  imitations.  Yet  when  the  burglar 
has  made  his  haul  he  takes  the  lot  straight  to  head 
quarters,  where  they  are  assayed  in  the  laboratory 
and  then  turned  over  to  a  third  party  to  dispose  of. 
There's  little  doubt  but  that  these  transactions  are 
practically  always  carried  on  strictly  on  the  level. 
Moreover,  there's  a  sinking  fund  for  protecting 
members  of  the  gang  that  get  nabbed  and  tiding 
over  others  that  are  in  a  run  of  bad  luck.  Paris 
is  a  great  town  for  organised  crime." 

John  nodded  and  beckoned  to  the  maitre  d'hotel 
to  fill  his  champagne  glass,  and  again  I  saw  that 
faint  shadow  cross  Edith's  face. 

When  we  reached  the  Opera  the  house  was 
already  filled.  Edith  and  Miss  Dalghren  sat  in 


40  THE    CLOSING   NET 

the  front  of  the  box,  of  course,  John  behind  his  wife 
and  I  behind  the  girl,  and  you  may  believe  it  or  not, 
but  those  two  magnificent  pearl  necklaces  within  the 
reach  of  my  hand  never  gave!  me  so  much  as  a 
quiver.  Tristan  was  being  sung  and  my  eyes  and 
ears  were  all  for  the  stage,  for  I  love  music. 

About  the  middle  of  the  first  act  there  was  a  stir 
in  the  box  beside  us,  and  Edith  half-turned  and 
brushed  my  sleeve  with  her  fan. 

"  Prince  Kharkoff,"  she  whispered,  "  and  his 
beautiful  Polish  Princess." 

I  swung  about  in  my  seat  and  looked  straight  into 
the  wonderful,  amber  eyes  of  Leontine. 


CHAPTER  III 

LEONTINE   DIGS    IN   THE   SAND 

IT  was  this  same  Prince  Kharkoff,  you  remember, 
who  got  me  shipped  off  to  Cayenne.  But  that  was 
three  years  before,  and  when  I  had  been  fool  enough 
to  get  caught  in  his  bear-trap  grip,  that  day  at  the 
races,  I  was  wearing  a  Vandyk  beard  and  mous 
tache.  But  now  I  was  smooth  shaven,  and,  con 
sidering  my  surroundings  and  resemblance  to  John, 
there  was  no  danger  of  his  recognising  me,  espe 
cially  as  he  and  the  Cuttynges  had  frequently  met  at 
dinner  and  receptions.  Being  with  Leontine  he  did 
not  bow. 

Leontine  had  not  seen  us,  and  as  she  swung 
slowly  in  her  chair  to  see  who  her  neighbors  were, 
I  turned  as  if  to  speak  to  John.  There  were  a 
good  many  people  looking,  and  I  was  not  sure  that 
the  girl  would  be  able  to  hide  her  feelings.  You 
see,  my  play  in  getting  myself  collared  to  save  the 
rest  of  the  crowd  had  hit  her  pretty  hard,  espe 
cially  as  she  knew  that  I  would  have  pulled  the  job 
off  all  right  except  for  her  wilfulness.  As  she  saw 
it  she  had  cost  me  my  liberty  for  life,  so  that  when 
I  tackled  the  agent,  and  held  him  while  the  others 
got  away  in  the  car,  she  was  horribly  broken  up. 
You  see,  we  were  already  pretty  well  started  on 
one  of  those  swift,  savage  affairs  that  sometimes 
happen  in  the  Under-World,  where  people  don't 
know  at  what  moment  they  may  find  iron  bars  be- 

41 


42  THE    CLOSING    NET 

tween  them.  Every  day  that  I  was  in  the  Sante 
I  had  got  a  love  message  from  her. 

John  was  taking  her  in  through  his  monocle. 

"Gad  —  she  is  a  beauty,"  he  whispered  to  me, 
then  added:  "What's  the  matter  with  her?" 

I  glanced  carelessly  about.  Kharkoff  and  the 
girl  had  seated  themselves.  The  Prince  was  star 
ing  around  the  house,  but  Leontine  was  straight  in 
her  chair,  her  face  pale  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
stage,  while  her  bosom  was  heaving  like  that  of  a 
runner  at  the  end  of  a  race.  Suddenly  Kharkoff 
turned  to  say  something  and  noticed  the  rigid  ex 
pression  of  her  face.  His  bushy  brows  came  down 
and  he  leaned  over  so  that  his  beard  brushed  her 
gleaming  shoulder. 

"  Qu'est  ce  que  tu  as  .  .  .  dis  .  .  .  ? " 
I  heard  him  ask  in  the  thick  voice  that  I  remembered 
so  well. 

Leontine  pulled  herself  together  and  managed  a 
smile. 

"  Un  vertige  ce  n'est  rlen  .  .  ." 

she  answered,  and  raised  her  fan. 

When  I  glanced  at  her  again  a  few  minutes  later 
she  was  looking  at  the  stage.  Her  cheeks  were 
still  pale,  but  there  was  a  crimson  spot  in  each. 
She  felt  my  eyes  on  her  and  flashed  me  a  quick  look, 
which  passed  to  Edith,  then  Miss  Dalghren.  I 
was  watching  her  closely  and  saw  her  gaze  fasten 
on  both  sets  of  pearls  and  there  was  an  unholy 
gleam  in  her  tawny  eyes.  She  took  a  deep  breath, 
then  turned  to  the  Prince  and  whispered  a  few 
words. 

John  leaned  over  and  said,  with  his  lips  so  close 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND    43 

to  my  ear  that  I  caught  the  strong  reek  of  liquor: 

"Ain't  she  a  wonder!  All  Paris  is  mad  to  find 
out  who  she  really  is  —  and  what.  Somebody 
asked  Kharkoff  about  her  at  the  Automobile  Club 
the  other  night,,  just  before  they  started  to  play. 
'  La  femme  dn  diable! '  he  growled.  That's  the 
name  she  goes  by  now." 

"  She  looks  it,"  I  whispered,  wondering  what  he 
would  say  if  he  was  to  know  that  she  was  the  woman 
who  had  shoved  the  gun  into  my  hand  while  she 
hissed  into  my  ear  to  shoot  him  dead  a  couple  of 
weeks  before. 

Leontine  was  wearing  a  pale  green  chiffon  gown 
and  her  black  hair  was  drawn  down  under  a  gold 
band  set  with  emeralds.  Her  neck  and  shoulders 
glowed  like  old  ivory.  Edith  and  Miss  Dalghren 
were  stealing  sidelong  glances  at  her.  Then  the 
latter  turned  to  me,  and  her  blue  eyes  held  a  sort 
of  inquiry  which  made  me  wonder  if  she  had  no 
ticed  Leontine's  expression  when  she  first  looked 
into  our  box. 

Presently  the  curtain  rose  and  the  stage  took 
everybody's  attention  —  that  is,  everybody's  but 
mine.  I  was  doing  some  mighty  hard  thinking,  you 
can  bet. 

Just  before  the  curtain  fell  Leontine  and  Khar- 
koff  left  the  box.  Edith  turned  to  me. 

"Did  you  ever  see  so  wonderful  a  creature?" 
she  asked. 

"Did  you?"  said  Miss  Dalghren. 

"  She's  rather  too  exotic  for  my  taste,"  I  an 
swered. 

"  Do  you  know  who  she  is?  "  asked  the  girl. 


44  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  They  call  her  '  the  Devil's  wife  '!  "  said  John. 
"  Let's  go  out  and  see  if  she's  in  the  promenade." 

So  we  got  up  and  went  out.  As  we  left  the  box 
Kharkoff  and  Leontine  passed,  dressed  for  the 
street.  I  was  talking  to  Miss  Dalghren  and  Leon- 
tine's  eyes  avoided  mine  but  rested  for  a  moment 
intently  on  the  girl.  Miss  Dalghren  gave  a  little 
shiver. 

"  She's  rather  terrible,  I  think,"  said  she.  "  Did 
you  see  the  look  she  gave  me?  It  was  not  agree 
able.  I  wonder  why?  " 

"  Jealousy,  perhaps,"  said  John. 

"  Of  what?  "   asked   Miss   Dalghren,   quickly. 

"  I  fancy,"  said  John,  "  that  for  all  of  her  dark 
beauty  the  Night  is  always  a  bit  jealous  of  the  Morn 
ing;  also,  your  pearls  are  finer  than  hers." 

Miss  Dalghren  shrugged  her  handsome  shoulders, 
but  did  not  seem  pleased.  We  started  to  walk 
through  the  press,  talking  of  the  music  and  the  peo 
ple,  and  presently  returned  to  the  box. 

When  the  show  was  over  and  we  went  out  into 
the  crush  a  woman  attendant  brushed  past  me  and 
slipped  a  piece  of  paper  into  my  hand.  I  guessed 
what  it  was  and  shoved  it  into  my  pocket,  fiercely 
angry  for  the  second  that  Leontine  should  have  taken 
a  chance  like  that.  But  the  attendant  had  glanced 
at  the  lapel  of  my  coat,  and  I  saw  that  Leontine  had 
probably  noticed  John's  decoration  and  told  the 
woman  to  give  the  note  to  the  one  of  us  who  did  not 
wear  the  red  ribbon.  John  had  been  decorated  for 
some  silly  thing  or  other;  assisting  at  the  unveiling 
of  a  statue,  I  believe. 

We  went  for  supper,  then  home.     As  soon  as  I 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     45 

was  alone  in  the  pretty  chintz  bedroom  where  Edith 
had  put  me  I  took  the  note  from  my  pocket  and  read : 

"How  does  it  happen?  How,  how,  how?  Oh, 
my  dear,  are  you  your  own  man?  Meet  me  in  the 
rose  garden  at  Bagatelle  to-morrow  morning  at  n. 
Don't  dare  to  fail  me.  L." 

Let  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  I  was  not  pleased 
with  this  note.  Leontine  was  not  for  me.  She  be 
longed  to  the  Under- World  —  or  at  best  the  Half- 
World  —  and  I  had  put  all  thought  of  her  away 
from  me  with  the  criminal  life  which  I  had  passed 
my  word  to  give  up.  Whether  she  was  an  anar- 
chiste,  a  spy,  or  one  of  Ivan's  organised  mob,  I  did 
not  know,  and  had  no  wish  to  find  out. 

At  first  I  thought  that  I  would  send  her  a  line  to 
say  that  my  past  and  everything  included  in  it  was 
blotted  out.  Mind  you,  I  had  known  Leontine  for 
only  about  five  hours,  and  then,  except  for  the  few 
minutes  when  we  were  in  John's  house,  in  the  com 
pany  of  a  gay  crowd  of  high-rolling  thieves.  So  it 
seemed  a  little  thick  that  she  should  bother  me  now 
when  I  had  escaped  a  life  sentence  by  a  miracle  —  or 
as  Edith  said,  "  the  grace  of  God."  I  owed  her 
nothing,  but  she  owed  me  a  lot  and  I  thought  that  the 
best  way  would  be  to  write  and  claim  that  she  pay 
rne  the  debt  by  leaving  me  alone. 

Thinking  it  over,  however,  I  decided  that  this  very 
payment  was  probably  the  only  one  that  a  woman 
like  Leontine  would  refuse  to  meet,  unless  absolutely 
convinced  that  it  was  the  only  one  which  I  would 
ever  accept.  Besides,  I  had  a  feeling  that  down 
underneath  there  was  a  lot  of  heart  to  Leontine  and 
a  little  good  sense.  So  I  decided  to  meet  her  and 


46  THE    CLOSING   NET 

make  things  plain,  when  I  thought  that  I  could  count 
on  her  to  do  her  part  and  make  no  trouble. 

When  I  came  down  the  next  morning  I  found  John 
on  the  terrace  reading  the  papers  over  his  coffee. 
He  looked  up  with  a  nod  and  a  smile. 

We  talked  for  a  few  minutes,  then  said  John: 

"  Frank,  do  you  know  anything  about  motors?  " 

'  Yes,"  I  answered.  "  I've  fooled  around  cars  a 
good  deal."  I  didn't  add  that  I  had  once  made  a 
tour  of  New  England  in  a  motor-car,  working  the 
different  places  we  struck  en  route. 

"  Good,"  says  he,  then  went  on  to  tell  me  how 
for  some  time  past  he  had  been  considering  a  new 
motor-car  proposition.  A  few  days  before  he  came 
to  see  me  in  the  Sante  he  had  decided  to  take  it  up, 
backing  it  with  quite  a  lot  of  capital.  The  concern 
had  rented  a  place  on  the  Avenue  de  la  Grande 
Armee,  but  was  at  a  standstill  for  lack  of  funds. 

"  You  speak  perfect  French,"  says  he,  "  and  un 
derstand  business  methods  over  here.  How  would 
you  like  to  take  the  managership  of  the  Paris  office?  " 

"  That  would  suit  me  to  the  ground,"  I  answered. 

"  Well,  then,"  says  he,  "  we'll  go  up  there  this 
afternoon  and  look  things  over.  Have  you  anything 
to  do  before  luncheon?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  There's  one  of  my  former  pals 
I  must  see  and  give  it  out  straight  that  I'm  retiring 
from  the  graft  business." 

John  looked  thoughtful.  "  Perhaps  you're  right," 
says  he.  "  You  don't  anticipate  any  trouble,  do 
you?" 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  there's  nothing  to  fear. 
Thieves  often  do  just  what  I'm  doing;  get  out  of  it 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     47 

in  time.  Fact  is,  most  thieves  chuck  the  game  soon 
after  middle  age,  if  they're  out  of  jail.  I'll  hand  it 
out  cold  that  I've  quit,  and  make  it  plain  that  so  far 
as  the  old  gang  is  concerned  I  never  knew  it." 

This  may  sound  queer,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it's 
nearly  as  frequent  for  a  crook  to  turn  honest  as  it  is 
for  an  honest  person  to  turn  crook. 

So  out  I  went  and  hailed  a  motor-taxi  and  spun 
through  the  Bois  to  Bagatelle.  I  told  my  driver 
to  let  me  out  at  the  main  gate  on  the  side  of  the  Bois, 
when  I  walked  across  to  the  rose  garden.  There 
was  nobody  in  sight,  so  I  strolled  up  to  the  little 
summer-house,  looking  over  the  gardens,  and  waited, 
for  I  was  a  bit  ahead  of  time.  The  day  was  per 
fect;  cloudless  and  the  air  soft  and  fragrant.  No 
body  was  in  the  gardens,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  and 
pretty  soon  I  got  tired  of  waiting  and  started  to  stroll 
down  one  of  the  narrow  paths,  banked  on  either  side 
with  perfumed  laurel. 

It  was  at  the  first  abrupt  bend  of  the  little  path  that 
I  came  face  to  face  with  Leontine.  She  was  in  a 
dark  blue  riding-habit  with  a  little  tricorne  hat  of 
Loden  felt  cocked  a  bit  on  her  wavy  black  hair.  Her 
.cheeks  were  flushed  and  her  eyes  were  sparkling, 
and  as  we  came  together  she  flung  back  her  head  and 
threw  out  both  arms. 

"  Frank!  "  she  cried,  as  if  I  had  been  a  long-lost 
lover,  instead  of  a  burglarising  acquaintance  of  from 
nine  until  two.  The  next  instant  she  was  in  my 
arms,  or  to  put  it  more  exactly,  I  was  in  hers,  and  her 
fresh  face,  with  its  faint  odour  of  Houbigant,  was 
crushed  against  mine. 

My  friend,  a  man  can't  stand  being  fondled  by  as 


48  THE    CLOSING    NET 

lovely  a  woman  as  Leontine  and  never  lift  a  hand. 
This  man  couldn't,  at  that  time,  so  I  caught  her  in 
my  arms  and  gave  her  a  squeeze  that  made  her  gasp, 
big  strong  woman  that  she  was.  But  she  must  have 
felt  the  lack  of  fire  in  it  and  as  I  loosed  my  grip  she 
laid  one  of  her  gauntleted  hands  on  my  chest  and 
pushed  herself  away,  while  her  clear,  curious  eyes 
looked  searchingly  into  mine. 

"  Frank,"  she  said  in  her  rich  voice,  "  are  you 
really  free?  Your  own  man  —  and  mine?" 

"  I'm  free  all  right,"  I  answered,  "  but  neither 
yours  nor  mine,  my  dear  girl." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  asked. 

"  Come  over  here  in  the  summer-house  and  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  it,"  I  answered. 

When  we  were  in  the  little  pagoda  I  told  her  the 
whole  story.  Leontine  listened  in  silence. 

".  So  you  see,"  I  finished,  "  my  word 

is  passed  and  I'm  going  to  make  good.  I've  done 
with  everything  belonging  to  the  old  life." 

Leontine  began  to  trace  figures  in  the  dust  with 
the  loop  of  her  riding  crop.  Presently  she  said: 

"  And  are  you  content  to  give  up  your  freedom  as 
tamely  as  this?  " 

"  I  gave  it  up,"  said  I,  "  when  I  tackled  that  agent 
to  keep  the  rest  of  you  from  getting  pinched." 

She  looked  at  me  quickly  and  her  eyes  darkened. 

"  Ah,  that  was  splendid,"  says  she,  " —  that  was 
glorious.  Oh,  Frank,  nobody  will  ever  know  what 
I  suffered  that  night.  If  Ivan  and  Chu-Chu  had  not 
held  me  fast  I  would  have  leaped  out  of  the  car  and 
shot  that  policeman.  When  they  got  me  home  I  was 
like  a  mad  woman.  They  locked  me  in  my  room  and 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     49 

the  girls  never  left  me  for  two  days.  Because  I 
knew  that  it  was  all  my  fault.  I  spoiled  everything. 
But,"  she  gave  me  a  burning  look,  "  I  never  imagined 
that  it  could  be  as  bad  as  this." 

"  You've  never  done  time  in  a  French  penal  col 
ony,"  said  I.  "  This  is  good  enough  for  me." 

Leontine  stamped  her  booted  foot. 

"  Then  it's  not  good  enough  for  me,"  she  cried,  in 
a  hot  voice.  "  If  you  think  that  I  am  going  to  give 
you  up  like  this,  you  are  mistaken,  Frank." 

I  did  not  answer.  She  looked  at  me  and  her  eyes 
filled. 

"  You  told  me  that  night  that  you  loved  me,"  she 
whispered,  "  and  my  heart  leaped  to  meet  yours.  I 
have  never  loved  a  man  before,  Frank.  The  min 
ute  that  our  hands  touched  and  I  looked  into  your 
cold,  grey  eyes  I  knew  that  I  had  found  my  mate  and 
my  master.  You  belong  to  me,  Frank,  and  to  my 
world.  Society  is  our  enemy.  Why  should  you  go 
hat  in  hand  and  ask  to  be  taken  back?  Listen, 
Frank.  Find  out  how  much  your  half-brother  paid 
to  get  you  clear.  Then  we  will  pay  it  back.  I  am 
rich,  just  now.  Afterwards,  if  you  like,  we  will  go 
away " 

I  raised  my  hand.  "  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  I 
said  gently;  "  but  it  can't  be  done.  My  word  is 
passed.  The  money  is  only  a  part  of  the  debt.  The 
good  faith,  the  warmth  of  heart  and  voluntary  good 
will  are  things  that  I  can  only  repay  by  being  worth 
them  —  and,  so  help  me,  I  intend  to." 

A  dark  flush  came  into  Leontine's  face.  She 
looked  at  me  fixedly  for  a  moment,  then  began  again 
to  trace  patterns  in  the  dust.  Finally  she  said: 


50  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Suppose  that  you  had  not  been  caught  —  that  I 
had  not  been  such  a  fool  as  to  insist  on  going  upstairs 
after  the  pearls  —  what  would  you  have  done  ?  Did 
you  really  care  for  me,  or  was  it  just  the  madness  of 
the  moment?  Did  you  really  intend  to  win  me?" 
She  fastened  me  with  those  wonderful  eyes  of  hers. 

"  I  meant  to  win  you,"  I  answered.  "  Nothing 
would  have  kept  me  from  it.  I  was  mad  about  your 
beauty,  it's  true;  but  there  was  something  else  be 
sides  "  I  stopped. 

''  What,  Frank?  "  she  asked,  softly,  and  laid  her 
hand  on  my  shoulder,  leaning  toward  me  until  her 
flushed  face  was  almost  against  mine. 

I  gave  a  short  laugh.  "  It  sounds  like  a  foolish 
thing  for  a  professional  thief  to  say,  Leontine,"  I 
answered,  "  but  it  was  because  I  felt  the  good  in 
you." 

Leontine's  eyes  opened  wide. 

"  You  are  the  first  man  to  feel  that,"  she  an 
swered. 

"  It  is  there,"  I  answered;  "  tons  of  it.  You  have 
plenty  of  heart,  my  dear,  and  a  great  big  generous 
soul.  I  don't  know  anything  about  you,  but  I  know 
that  you  are  not  bad.  Not  by  a  long  shot." 

"  I  am  a  thief,"  she  flashed  back.  "  A  thief  on  a 
bigger  scale  than  you  ever  dreamed  of,  mon  ami." 

"  And  I  am  a  thief  no  longer,"  I  answered. 

"  But  if  you  were  -    —  ?  " 

"  If  I  were "  I  hesitated.  The  fascination 

of  her  was  beginning  to  turn  my  head,  as  it  had  that 
night.  "  If  I  were —  then  all  hell  could  never  keep 
you  from  me,"  I  cried,  and  reached  for  her  with 
both  arms. 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     51 

For  a  few  mad  seconds  everything  was  blurred. 
Then  I  pushed  her  away.  Her  arms  still  clung,  but 
I  was  the  stronger.  She  reeled  back  against  the 
rustic  rail  and  pressed  her  hands  against  her  temples. 

"  But  I'm  not,"  I  muttered,  and  stepped  away. 
"  As  long  as  my  half-brother  and  his  angel  of  a  wife 
continue  to  believe  in  me  I  shall  never  break  faith  — 
and  this  is  good-by,  Leontine." 

She  looked  at  me  with  a  curious  expression  in  her 
tawny  eyes. 

"And  if  they  should  lose  their  faith  in  you?" 
she  asked. 

I  shrugged.  "  It's  my  business  to  see  that  they 
never  do,"  I  answered. 

Leontine  gave  me  a  curious  smile.  '  We'll  see, 
Frank,"  said  she,  softly.  "  Once  a  thief,  always  a 
thief.  It's  in  the  blood." 

Suddenly  she  turned  and  walked  down  the  path 
and  disappeared  behind  the  heavy  foliage. 

That  afternoon  John  took  me  up  to  see  the  new 
car  that  he  was  promoting.  The  company  planned 
to  make  only  big  fellows.  One  of  their  six-cylinders 
was  in  the  garage  and  we  took  her  out  for  a  spin 
over  the  road.  We  made  the  run  to  Chartres  in 
about  fifty  minutes,  John  driving.  The  chief  mec- 
anicien  was  with  us  and  his  son,  a  bright  youngster 
of  eighteen,  named  Gustave. 

On  the  way  home  we  stopped  at  the  Automobile 
Club  for  a  business  talk  with  three  members  of  the 
company  with  whom  John  had  made  a  rendezvous: 
a  Swiss  engineer,  the  General  Director  and  the  Gen 
eral  Superintendent.  It  was  arranged  that  I  should 
take  charge  of  the  Paris  office,  my  principal  duty 


52  THE    CLOSING    NET 

being  to  show  the  car  to  clients.  After  the  others 
had  gone  John  and  I  remained  to  talk,  and  I  noticed 
that  in  the  course  of  our  conversation  he  took  several 
drinks  of  whisky  and  soda.  He  was  in  that  state  of 
buoyancy  about  the  new  venture  that  you  find  so 
often  in  the  rich  amateur  whose  only  knowledge  of 
business  comes  from  buying  things  instead  of  trying 
to  sell  them.  He  told  me  that  he  had  always  been 
very  sore  at  his  dependence  on  his  wife  for  every 
cent  he  spent  and  that  he  soon  hoped  to  be  a  rich 
man  on  his  own  account.  He  hinted  to  me  that  he 
had  several  things  in  hand  from  which  he  expected 
big  results,  and  that  if  all  went  as  it  should  he  would 
be  able  to  back  his  automobile  venture  with  a  couple 
of  million  francs.  But  he  didn't  tell  me  what  there 
was  to  warrant  these  expectations,  and  I  rather  sus 
pected  that  he  was  playing  the  stock  market.  I  no 
ticed  that  with  every  drink  he  got  a  little  more  san 
guine,  and  as  his  spirit  went  up  my  own  went  down. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  began  to  fear  that  a  good  many 
of  John's  big  ideas  came  out  of  the  whisky  bottle. 

That  night  at  dinner  John  was  very  jolly  and 
talkative  at  first,  but  toward  the  end  his  good-na 
ture  passed  off,  and  I  could  see  that  the  reaction  was 
setting  in.  John  did  not  impress  me  as  a  drinking 
man.  His  methods  were  more  those  of  a  person 
who  is  bothered  about  something  and  hits  the  bottle 
to  drown  care. 

After  dinner  Edith  and  Miss  Dalghren  went  out 
to  the  studio,  as  Edith  wanted  to  study  the  effects  of 
artificial  light  on  the  portrait.  John  and  I  went  into 
the  smoking-room,  and  I  noticed  that  he  took  three 
cups  of  strong  black  coffee. 


LEONTINE    DIGS   IN    THE    SAND     53 

I  said  good-night  early,  for  the  ride  had  made  me 
sleepy.  While  I  was  undressing  there  came  a  rap  at 
the  door,  and  the  maitre  d'hotel  handed  me  a  tray 
with  a  letter  addressed  in  Leontine's  hand,  which! 
was  of  the  round,  English  sort. 

"  Confound  the  girl,"  I  said  to  myself,  u  here's 
more  trouble."  I  sat  down  at  a  little  writing  desk 
and  opened  the  letter.  There  were  fathoms  and 
fathoms  of  it;  a  regular  essay. 

She  began  by  telling  me  that  since  our  meeting  at 
Bagatelle  she  had  been  thinking  constantly  of  the 
step  which  I  had  taken,  and  had  decided  to  write 
and  tell  me  the  result  of  her  reflections.  She  had 
also,  she  said,  been  analysing  the  state  of  her  senti 
ments  toward  me  (I  could  imagine  her  doing  that  as 
much  as  I  could  imagine  a  small  boy  analysing  the 
effect  of  a  match  held  to  a  heap  of  loose  powder), 
and  she  had  found  that  she  loved  me  enough  to  give 
me  up  and  to  help  me  in  my  new  resolutions,  pro 
vided  she  could  manage  to  persuade  herself,  or  be 
persuaded,  that  such  an  act  on  my  part  was  rational. 
So  far,  however,  my  reform  under  the  existing  con 
ditions  impressed  her  as  fore-doomed  to  failure,  and 
could  result  only  in  unhappiness  to  me  and  social  in 
jury  to  those  who  had  befriended  me.  At  present, 
said  she,  they  were  enthusiastic  over  my  redemption, 
while  I,  for  my  part,  was  full  of  gratitude  and  good 
resolutions.  But,  said  Leontine,  the  leopard  cannot 
change  his  spots.  Once  a  thief,  always  a  thief. 
Sooner  or  later  the  old  instincts  are  bound  to  awaken. 
"  As  long  as  all  goes  smoothly  with  you,"  said  she, 
"  all  right  and  good.  But  if  ever  you  should  be 
pressed;  if  you  were  to  get  in  any  sort  of  financial 


54  THE    CLOSING    NET 

difficulty,  as  happens  to  all  business  people  at  times, 
you  would  find  the  temptation  to  take  the  easy  way 
out  irresistible.  No,  Frank,"  she  wrote,  "  once  a 
thief,  always  a  thief." 

Then  she  went  on  to  say  how,  in  time,  my  past 
was  bound  to  become  known,  and  that  there  would 
always  surround  me  an  atmosphere  of  spectacular 
notoriety,  which  was  bound  to  hurt  my  friends  and 
make  me,  myself,  uncomfortable.  If  I  married  into 
the  class  of  society  where  I  now  found  myself  the 
stain  would  always  stick  to  wife  and  children,  said 
Leontine.  A  reformed  burglar,  said  she,  might  do 
for  a  very  quiet  or  else  a  Bohemian  Society,  but  was 
bound  to  be  utterly  out  of  his  element  in  the  aristo 
cratic  circles  of  my  half-brother  and  his  wife.  My 
duty  to  them,  said  Leontine,  was  to  tell  them  that  I 
could  never  be  of  their  world  and  to  go  away. 
"  Do  that  before  they  begin  to  be  conscious  of  their 
mistake,"  she  wrote. 

About  here  I  stopped  and  did  some  solid  thinking. 
There  was  no  doubt  but  that  the  girl  was  dead  right; 
absolutely  right.  I  had  felt  it  myself  in  a  vague 
sort  of  way.  It  struck  me  suddenly,  and  I  tell  you 
the  thought  was  a  mighty  bitter  one,  that  all  of  this 
must,  of  course,  have  occurred  to  Edith,  but  because 
she  was  such  an  angel  of  a  woman,  she  had  decided 
on  her  line  of  duty  and  meant  to  follow  it  at  any 
cost.  I  wondered  if  John  had  seen  it  in  the  same 
way,  and  decided  that,  for  his  part,  he  was  probably 
so  pleased  with  himself  for  the  fine  thing  that  he 
was  doing  as  not  to  reckon  in  the  cost.  You  see,  I 
was  losing  my  respect  for  my  half-brother,  as  a  man, 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     55 

just  as  I  was  gaining  it  for  his  wife,  as  a  woman. 
You  didn't  need  an  X-ray  machine  to  see  smack 
through  John.  He  was  a  good,  kind,  easy-going 
sort  of  chap,  with  artistic  tastes,  athletic,  physically 
brave,  but  morally  weak.  No  doubt  if  he  had  ever 
had  to  work  for  his  living  it  might  have  stiffened  his 
back.  But  he  had  been  an  idler  from  childhood, 
with  all  of  his  wants  provided  for,  and  had  always 
been  too  lazy  to  use  his  opportunities  to  employ 
what  energy  he  had.  He  was  the  typical  dilettante, 
dabbling  at  art  and  sports  and  science,  and  never 
making  himself  the  master  of  anything,  least  of  all 
himself.  No  man  with  any  real  stuff  in  him  who 
was  care-free,  in  robust  health,  with  a  fine  position, 
and,  most  of  all  —  and  here  something  blazed  up  in 
side  me  —  such  a,  woman  as  Edith  for  his  wife, 
would  be  sitting,  as  no  doubt  he  was  that  moment, 
guzzling  whisky  in  his  smoking-room,  to  go  reeling 
up  a  little  later  to  snore  drunkenly  at  his  wife's  side 
for  the  rest  of  the  night.  Augh! 

It  may  seem  beastly  ungrateful  of  me,  my  friend, 
but  the  idea  gave  me  a  sort  of  hot  rage.  I  felt 
like  going  down  the  stairs  and  smashing  the  decanter 
over  his  head. 

I  took  up  Leontine's  letter  again.  "-As  far  as 
your  half-brother  is  concerned,"  she  went  on,  "  it 
does  not  so  much  matter.  After  all,  there  is  a  blood 
tie  between  you,  and  blood  is  thicker  than  water. 
Besides,  Frank,  I  have  learned  a  good  deal  about 
him  from  Kharkoff  and  another  man.  He  is  not  a 
very  wonderful  person.  But,  for  his  wife's  sake,  do 
you  yourself  think  that  you  ought  to  remain  one  of 


56  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  household?  From  what  you  have  told  me,  I 
can  see  that  your  ransom  was  all  her  doing  —  and 
why  should  she  have  done  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said  to  myself.  '  Why  should  she  have 
done  it?  " 

From  this  point  the  letter  jumped  into  another 
key.  "  Frank,"  wrote  Leontine,  "  don't  think  that  I 
am  urging  you  to  remain  in  the  Under-World.  I 
love  your  firmness  and  I  adore  your  strength  of  pur 
pose.  You  are  too  good  for  a  thief;  too  strong  and 
fine.  Oh,  my  dear,  do  you  think  that  I  have  never 
felt  as  you  do?  Do  you  think  that  I  have  never 
wished  to  get  out  of  this  slough?  To  look  the 
whole  world  in  the  face  without  fear  and  without 
reproach?  I  am  sick  of  this  atmosphere  of  doubt 
and  defiance.  Let  us  go  away  together  and  begin 
our  lives  afresh.  We  are  both  young  and  strong 
and  talented.  Let  us  go  far  away  to  some  new  coun 
try  and  begin  our  lives  anew,  and  on  a  clean  and 
wholesome  footing.  Let  us  pay  your  money  debt, 
Frank  —  for  all  that  I  have  is  yours.  You  told  me 
to-day  that  Society's  debt  to  you  had  been  paid  in 
full.  My  dear,  Society  owes  me  a  debt  also;  a  debt 
far  greater  than  yours.  But  if  Society  will  give  me 
you,  I  will  consider  the  obligation  as  cancelled  " ; 
and  then  there  was  a  whole  lot  which  would  make  me 
feel  even  more  a  fool  to  repeat. 

I  dropped  the  letter  on  the  desk  and  ran  my  hands 
through  my  hair.  The  room  felt  hot,  the  night  was 
hot,  my  head  was  hot.  Up  I  jumped  and  opened 
the  window  on  the  other  side,  and  a  fresh  breeze 
swept  in.  For  several  minutes  I  stood  in  the  win 
dow,  facing  it,  my  head  in  a  whirl.  Leontine  was 
right,  I  thought.  Such  a  past  as  mine  could  never 


LEONTINE    DIGS    IN    THE    SAND     57 

be  kept  a  secret.  It  was  bound  to  become  known, 
and  then  what  would  be  said  of  Edith  for  harbour 
ing  a  criminal  —  a  low  grade  of  criminal:  burglar, 
sneak-thief,  pickpocket?  No  doubt  the  story  would 
reach  Kharkoff.  Leontine  herself  might  tell  him, 
and  he  would  remember  how  I  had  tried  to  relieve 
him  of  his  winnings  that  day  at  the  races,  when  he 
had  caught  me  and  got  me  deported  to  Cayenne.  I 
was  a  marked  man.  My  picture  was  in  the  French 
Rogue's  Gallery  and  my  head  measurements  in  the 
Bertillon  records. 

To  think  that  Edith  should  fall  heiress  to  all  this ! 
Edith,  that  angel  of  a  woman.  The  very  thought 
of  her  sent  a  glow  through  me.  Angel  she  might 
be,  and  as  such  far  above  all  earthly  shame  and  suf 
fering.  But  she  was  a  woman,  too  —  and  such  a 
woman.  My  heart  was  full  of  her,  and  my  mind 
too;  and  as  I  stood  there  in  the  long  window,  star 
ing  into  the  dark  shadows  of  the  trees,  I  saw  the 
sweet,  thoughtful  face  with  the  clear,  steady  eyes 
and  sensitive  mouth.  Such  a  woman  was  meant  for 
love  and  happiness  and  peace  of  soul  in  which  to 
accomplish  the  work  of  her  rich  gifts;  not  to  suffer 
the  sneers  and  evil  criticisms  of  an  evil  world. 

Suddenly  I  knew  why  Leontine's  feverish  kisses 
had  left  me  cold.  I  knew  why  my  gratitude  to 
John  was  turning  slowly  to  a  cold  disgust.  It  had 
not  taken  long,  I  thought,  with  a  sort  of  joyful  pain. 

In  a  rage  I  turned  back  to  the  table  to  torture  my 
self  afresh  with  Leontine's  letter.  The  girl  was 
right.  So  be  it,  she  should  have  her  way.  I  would 
go  with  her  to  the  ends  of  the  world. 

Such  a  woman  as  Edith  was  not  for  me.     Leon- 


58  THE    CLOSING    NET 

tine  and  I  were  well  mated;  creatures  of  the  same 
clay.  We  were  of  the  earth,  earthy.  Heaven  was 
not  for  my  kind,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  I  were 
to  go  clawing  after  it  worse  things  might  happen, 
not  only  to  me  but  to  this  sweet  woman  who  was 
ready  to  sacrifice  her  own  position,  if  need  be,  to  help 
me.  The  Polish  girl  and  I  were  of,  and  belonged 
to,  the  Under-World.  We  were  destroyers;  tearers 
down  of  the  established  order  of  affairs. 

So  I  turned  and  read  the  letter  through  agaitf,  and 
then,  with  a  curse,  I  held  a  lighted  match  to  one 
corner,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  with  it  burn<M  all 
of  my  new-found  future. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A   BACK    EDDY 

EDITH,  I  knew,  was  an  early  riser,  and  the  next 
morning  at  nine  I  found  her  already  at  work  in  her 
studio.  She  was  alone,  for  Miss  Dalghren  was 
more  luxurious. 

"  May  I  interrupt  you  for  a  few  minutes'  talk, 
Edith?"  I  asked. 

"  Of  course  you  may,"  she  answered,  laying  down 
her  palette  and  giving  me  a  quick  look  with  her 
thoughtful  eyes. 

So  I  told  her  of  my  letter  from  Leontine,  holding 
back,  of  course,  the  name  and  identity  of  the  writer. 
Edith  listened  with  her  smooth  brows  knit.  I  did 
not  mention  what  Leontine  had  said  about  a  thief 
being  always  a  thief,  because  I  knew  in  my  heart  that 
this  did  not  apply  to  me.  I  had  been  a  criminal, 
but  not  a  weak  man.  Whenever  I  have  committed 
a  crime  it  has  always  been  of  my  own  deliberate  in 
tention  and  not  the  result  of  temptation.  To  my 
way  of  thinking  the  man  who  wants  to  be  honest  and 
then  falls,  in  spite  of  himself,  is  not  a  thief.  He  is 
not  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  thief.  He  is  merely 
a  weakling.  To  that  class  belong  pilfering  valets 
de  chambre  and  absconding  cashiers  and  the  like. 
A  professional  thief  would  be  ashamed  to  associate 
with  that  sort.  He  steals  because  he  wants  to,  not 
because  he  can't  help  it.  What  I  dwelt  upon  to 
Edith  was  the  harm  that  might  come  to  her  husband 

59 


60  THE    CLOSING    NET 

and  herself  from  receiving  me  into  their  household 
—  and  I  put  this  even  stronger  than  Leontine  had 
done. 

When  I  had  finished  she  looked  at  me  with  her 
twisted  little  smile. 

"  Is  that  all,  Frank?  "  she  asked. 

"  Isn't  it  enough?  "  I  retorted.  "  And  isn't  it  all 
true?" 

"  It  may  be  true,  to  some  extent,"  she  answered 
slowly,  "  but  it  is  not  enough." 

"  It  may  not  be  enough  for  you,  Edith,"  I  cried, 
"  because  you  are  a  sort  of  angel  on  earth.  But  it 
is  enough  for  me  —  and  probably  would  be  for  John, 
if  he  were  to  look  at  it  in  this  light." 

"  John  understands,"  said  Edith,  "  he  is  loyal  to 
the  core  —  and  besides,  he  is  your  half-brother,  and 
it  is  his  duty." 

"  It  is  his  duty  not  to  sacrifice  you,"  said  I,  "  and 
mine,  too.  No,  Edith,  I  won't  have  it.  My  word 
is  passed  to  keep  straight  and  I'll  stick  to  it.  But 
not  here.  I  am  going  away." 

"With  this  woman?  "  she  asked. 

"With  or  without  her.  What  does  it  matter? 
That  is  not  the  question." 

"  How  long  do  you  think  you  would  keep  your 
word  to  remain  honest  if  you  were  with  her, 
Frank? "  Her  eyes  looked  steadily  into  mine. 
"  No;  if  you  go  back  to  her,  I  would  prefer  to  ab 
solve  you  from  your  promise.  It  is  better  to  be  dis 
honest  to  the  world,  I  think,  than  untrue  to  yourself. 
That  is  why  I  am  so  sure  of  you;  because,  whatever 
you  may  have  done,  I  know  that  you  have  always 
been  right  with  yourself.  But  you  could  not  be  so  if 


A    BACK   EDDY  61 

you  Were  to  slip  now.  And  with  such  a  woman  it 
would  be  almost  inevitable.  Listen  to  me,  Frank. 
I  thought  of  all  of  this  when  I  told  John  to  bring  you 
here.  I  weighed  the  pros  and  cons  for  all  of  us. 
If  I  had  found  you  a  different  sort  of  person  I  might 
have  lost  my  courage;  but  I  feel  instinctively  your 
resolution  and  your  strength.  Since  you  are  what 
you  are  I  have  no  fear  of  the  result  to  any  of  us. 
John  and  I  are  not  dependent  on  the  dictates  of  So 
ciety.  If  such  friends  as  we  have  cannot  accept  our 
decision  we  do  not  want  to  keep  them." 

:'  It's  asking  too  much '  I  muttered. 

Edith  laid  her  hand  upon  my  wrist. 

"  We  are  asking  nothing  of  anybody,  Frank. 
We  have  merely  made  our  choice,  that  is  all." 

What  was  I  to  say?  She  was  stronger  than  I  — • 
ten  thousand  million  times.  I  mumbled  back  the 
same  old  argument,  and  she  listened  with  her  twisted 
smile,  saying  a  warm  word  here  and  there,  for  which 
I  found  no  answer.  It  was  like  a  chunk  of  ice  try 
ing  to  argue  the  point  with  the  sun.  Finally  I  gave 
it  up  and  raised  her  hand  to  my  lips. 

"  I'll  talk  a  bit  to  John,"  I  muttered,  and  sham 
bled  out. 

John  was  on  the  terrace  at  breakfast.  His  eyes 
were  puffy,  as  he  looked  up  to  wish  me  good-morn 
ing,  and  I  noticed  that  his  hand  was  shaky  as  he 
poured  his  coffee. 

I  told  him  of  my  talk  with  Edith.  He  listened, 
looking  rather  bored. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  he,  "  I  understand,  of  course, 
how  you  feel  about  it  all.  Why  can't  we  make  some 
sort  of  a  compromise?  You  needn't  stop  here  at 


62  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  house  if  you're  afraid  that  it  might  reflect  on 
Edith,  but  there's  no  need  for  you  to  go  away.  Give 
this  crook  lady  to  understand  that  she's  got  to 
leave  you  alone,  then  find  yourself  diggings  up  near 
the  office  and  pitch  into  our  motor  business.  There's 
a  lot  to  be  done  in  the  way  of  introducing  the  car  — 
advertising  and  all  that.  Besides,  I've  got  quite  a 
list  of  possible  clients,  and  you  will  be  busy  taking 
them  out  over  the  road.  Let's  go  ahead  with  our 
business  and  let  the  social  part  slide." 

There  was  a  certain  amount  of  sense  in  this.  As 
long  as  I  kept  away  from  the  house,  it  didn't  seem 
as  if  I  could  do  them  any  special  harm.  So,  for  the 
time  being,  we  decided  to  let  it  go  at  that. 

I  found  myself  quarters  on  a  side  street  near  the 
office  and  started  in  to  work.  Rather  to  my  sur 
prise,  John  proved  himself  a  mighty  good  hustler 
for  trade.  He  had  a  big  acquaintance,  both  resi 
dent  and  amongst  visiting  Americans,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  first  six  weeks  we  booked  quite  a  num 
ber  of  orders.  Our  car  was  a  good  one,  silent  as  a 
watch,  easy  to  handle,  and  constructed  a  bit  on  the 
American  plan  with  a  high  clearance  and  light  for 
the  size  and  power,  which  made  it  easy  on  tires.  I 
joined  the  Automobile  Club  and  made  quite  a  lot  of 
useful  acquaintances. 

I  wrote  to  Leontine,  telling  her,  briefly,  of  the 
course  I'd  taken,  and  asking  her  to  make  good  in 
what  she  said  about  doing  her  part.  She  never 
answered  the  note,  but  I'll  be  hanged  if  she  didn't 
come  swelling  into  the  office  one  day  with  Kharkoff 
and  make  him  buy  a  car.  John  was  tremendously 
tickled  over  this. 


A    BACK    EDDY  63 

Now  and  again  I  saw  Edith,  but  I  kept  away  from 
the  house.  She  was  herself  a  very  good  driver  and 
duly  certificated  in  Paris.  Then  one  day  John  told 
me  that  Miss  Dalghren  was  anxious  to  learn  to 
drive,  and  asked  me  to  give  her  a  few  early-morning 
lessons  in  a  little  voiturette  which  we  had  taken  in 
trade  and  used  for  knocking  about  on  our  business. 
So  I  took  the  girl  out  in  the  Bois  before  business 
hours  in  the  morning,  and  twice  we  met  Leontine 
riding  with  Kharkoff.  The  face  of  the  Polish 
girl  was  not  as  amiable  as  I  would  have  liked 
to  see  it,  and  knowing  something  of  the  wild 
nature  of  women  of  her  sort,  I  told  Miss  Dalghren 
that,  if  she  didn't  mind,  we  would  continue  our 
lessons  late  in  the  afternoon,  as  I  had  missed 
one  or  two  early  clients,  and  later  in  the  day  I 
could  get  John  to  relieve  me  at  the  office  while  I  was 
gone.  She  agreed,  and  the  very  next  day  we  ran 
into  Leontine  and  Kharkoff  again  at  about  six  in  the 
evening. 

We  were  rounding  the  corner  of  a  narrow  little 
route  and  we  couldn't  have  been  in  a  worse  posi 
tion,  for  I  was  leaning  over  with  my  face  so  close  to 
hers  that  a  few  tendrils  of  her  yellow  hair  were 
against  my  cheek,  the  car  being  old  and  a  noisy  lit 
tle  beast.  Miss  Dalghren  turned  to  me  with  a 
smile,  just  as  Leontine  and  Kharkoff,  walking  their 
horses,  came  upon  us.  As  I  looked  up  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Leontine's  face.  It  had  gone  as  black 
as  a  thunder-cloud.  She  raised  her  crop  and 
brought  it  down  with  a  vicious  cut  on  the  ribs  of 
her  hunter,  which  sprang  ahead,  almost  striking  the 
car. 


64  THE    CLOSING    NET 

They  swept  past  and  Miss  Dalghren  looked  at 
me,  her  eyes  big  with  surprise. 

;'  Did  you  see  that?  "  she  cried.  "  I  wonder  why 
she  did  it?  And  her  face  was  furious." 

"  Probably  the  Prince  said  something  nice  about 
you,"  I  answered. 

The  girl  did  not  answer,  and  I  guessed  that  she 
was  thinking  of  the  night  that  Leontine  had  sat  next 
us  in  the  box.  A  little  later  she  turned  and  gave  me 
a  look  which  I  pretended  not  to  see.  For  my  part, 
I  was  troubled,  and  wrhen  we  got  back  I  said : 

"  You  drive  well  enough  now  to  take  your  exam 
ination.  I'll  go  down  to  the  prefecture  and  make 
an  engagement  for  you." 

"  Very  well,"  she  answered  quietly,  but  there 
was  a  tone  to  her  voice  that  made  me  uneasy. 

It  was  about  a  week  later  that  John  came  into  the 
office  one  morning  looking  so  badly  that  I  thought 
he  must  have  been  making  a  night  of  it.  He  shot 
me  a  quick  look,  then  said,  shortly: 

"  Come  into  the  private  office,  Frank,  I  want  to 
talk  to  you." 

I  followed  him  in.  John  turned  to  me  with  a 
haggard  face. 

"  Frank,"  said  he,  "  here's  the  devil  to  pay. 
Mary  Dalghren's  pearls  have  been  stolen." 

My  friend,  I  have  had  some  hard  jolts  at  different 
times  in  my  busy  life.  But  never  did  I  get  such  a 
knock-out  blow  as  that.  I  could  feel  the  blood  suck 
ing  out  of  my  face  and  the  pit  of  my  stomach  seemed 
to  melt.  John's  expression  was  pretty  bad,  but  my 
own  must  have  been  worse,  for  he  said,  sharply: 
"  What's  the  matter  with  you?  " 


A    BACK   EDDY  65 

I  pulled  myself  together.  My  throat  and  mouth 
felt  dry  and  I  hated  to  speak.  John  gave  me  an 
other  curious  look  and  his  face  hardened  a  trifle. 
He  pulled  out  his  cigarette-case  and  lit  a  cigarette  in 
a  sullen  sort  of  way.  Something  in  his  expression 
stiffened  my  back. 

"  Tell  me  the  particulars,"  I  said. 

"  There  ain't  much  to  tell,"  he  answered. 
"  Mary  went  to  a  big  dinner  at  the  Billings'  last 
night.  They  are  Americans  —  barrels  of  money, 
and  mighty  little  else.  Mary  teaches  the  daughters 
music.  She  wore  her  pearls.  After  your  visit 
showed  me  how  easy  it  was  for  a  cracksman  to  walk 
in  and  out  of  the  house,  I  bought  a  small,  new-model 
American  safe,  which  is  in  my  room.  Both  Mary 
and  Edith  keep  their  jewels  in  it.  But  last  night  I 
was  playing  a  little  baccarat  at  the  Automobile  Club 
and  didn't  get  in  till  three.  Edith  has  the  combina 
tion,  but  she  was  asleep  when  Mary  got  home,  and 
not  wishing  to  disturb  her,  Mary  locked  up  her 
pearls  in  her  bureau  de  toilette.  When  she  looked 
for  them  this  morning  they  were  gone.  That's  all." 

He  smoked  sulkily,  staring  out  through  the  win 
dow. 

'What  have  you  done  about  it?"  I  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  he  snapped,  "  what  was  there  to  do? 

Edith  would  not  let  me "  he  stopped  short  and 

got  red. 

"  Edith  would  not  let  you  notify  the  police,"  I 
said.  "  Of  course  she  wouldn't.  What  would  be 
the  use,  after  you  have  taken  a  felon  into  your  fam 
ily?  The  prefect  would  laugh  at  you  and  say  it 
served  you  right.  The  thief  knew  that." 


66  THE    CLOSING    NET 

I  got  on  my  feet  and  reached  for  my  hat. 

"  Let's  go  down  to  the  house,"  I  said,  "  I  want 
to  look  around." 

John  got  up  and  we  went  out  and  whirled  down 
to  the  Boulevard  des  Invalides.  Neither  of  us 
spoke  until  we  reached  the  Place  de  la  Concorde. 
Then  said  I : 

'  John,  I  know  what  has  happened  to  those  pearls 
and  I  don't  despair  of  getting  them  back.  Not  by 
a  whole  lot." 

He  gave  me  a  startled  look.      "  Well?  "  he  asked. 

"  Some  of  my  ex-pals  know  how  you  saved  me 
from  the  law,"  said  I,  "  and  that  I  stopped  for  awhile 
in  your  house.  They  also  know  that  your  wife  has 
fine  jewels.  Somebody  has  sized  up  the  proposition 
for  an  easy  one,  knowing  that  you  could  hardly  go 
to  the  police.  Also,  the  thief  counts  on  your  sus 
pecting  me.  Do  you?" 

John  looked  away.  "  Oh,  no  —  not  a  bit,"  he 
answered,  hesitating  a  trifle. 

"I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  I;  and  added:  "was 
Kharkoff  playing  last  night,  as  usual?  " 

"  Yes,"  growled  John,  "  worse  luck." 

"You  lost?" 

He  gave  me  a  quick  look,  then  grunted:  "Oh, 
a  trifle." 

Neither  of  us  spoke  until  we  reached  the  house, 
where  we  found  Edith  and  Miss  Dalghren  on  the 
terrace.  The  girl's  face  was  pale  and  I  thought  she 
seemed  a  little  embarrassed  at  seeing  me.  But 
Edith's  clear,  steady  eyes  were  as  steady  as  ever,  and 
she  gave  me  a  good  grip  of  the  hand. 

"  This  is  horrid,   Frank,"  said  she.     "  It  makes 


A    BACK    EDDY  67 

me  wish  that  there  were  no  such  things  as  jewels. 
But  I  have  told  Mary  that  she  is  not  to  worry;  that 
we  have  a  member  of  the  family  who  is  worth  a 
whole  bureau  of  detectives." 

A  cynical  sort  of  grin  spread  over  John's  self-in 
dulgent  mouth. 

"  You  are  right,  Edith,"  I  said.  "  I  told  John 
a  little  while  ago  that  I  could  locate  those  pearls, 
and  so  I  can." 

"Do  you  know  who  stole  them?"  asked  Mary 
Dalghren,  with  a  straight  look. 

"  I  think  so,"  I  answered.  "  Now  I  want  to  ask 
you  some  questions.  You  went  to  dine  at  the  Bill 
ings'  last  night  and  wore  your  pearls.  Who  and 
what  are  the  Billings?" 

"  They  are  rich  Americans  who  have  come  over 
here  to  educate  their  daughters.  They  live  on  the 
Avenue  de  Bois." 

"  Are  they  aristocratic  people?  "  I  asked. 

The  two  women  exchanged  glances. 

"  Hardly  that,"  answered  Miss  Dalghren,  hesi 
tatingly,  "  Mr.  Billings  is  rather  a  common  man 
who  has  made  a  big  fortune  in  ready-made  clothes, 
or  something  of  the  sort.  His  wife  is  ordinary,  but 
kind  and  well  meaning.  She  is  very  ambitious  so 
cially." 

"How  about  their  guests?"  I  asked.  "How 
many  were  there  and  what  were  they  like?  " 

'  There  were  twelve,  only  four  of  whom  I  had 
ever  met  before.  Two  or  three  of  them  I  thought 
rather  queer." 

"  Could  you  describe  a  few  of  the  men?  "  I  asked. 
'  There  were  a  few  titles,  I  suppose?  " 


68  THE    CLOSING    NET 

She  smiled.  "  They  were  all  titled,  I  think. 
Barons  and  counts  and  princes  and  a  general  or  two. 
Naturally,  the  one  I  remember  the  best  is  the  man 
who  took  me  out.  He  was  Italian,  I  think,  or  pos 
sibly  a  Pole.  Just  before  we  went  in  Mrs.  Billings 
took  me  aside  and  said:  'You  have  made  a  con 
quest,  my  dear.  Captain  Schlossberg  was  to 
have  taken  you  out,  but  a  man  has  just  begged 
so  hard  for  you  that  I  must  give  you  to  him,' 
and  she  pointed  out  a  handsome  man  who  looked 
like  an  Italian.  He  was  tall  and  slender,  with 
thick  black  hair  and  a  black  moustache,  waxed  at 
the  tips." 

"  What  was  his  name?  " 

"  I  did  not  catch  his  last  name,  but  during  the 
dinner  one  of  the  other  men  called  him  '  Ivan.'  ' 

"  Ivan,"  I  repeated,  as  if  to  fix  the  name  in  my 
mind.  "  Now,"  I  said,  "  can  you  remember  what 
you  talked  about?  " 

"  At  dinner  we  talked  principally  about  music," 
she  answered.  "  He  was  very  well  informed  and 
appeared  to  know  most  of  the  artists  and  composers. 
Also,  he  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  a  good  many 
nice  people  here  in  Paris." 

"  What  happened  after  dinner?  "  I  asked. 

"  There  was  a  girl  who  sang.  Then  my  dinner 
partner  played  some  Hungarian  folk-songs  and  sang 
one  or  two.  He  had  rather  a  nice  voice.  At  the 
end  I  played  the  harp.  When  I  had  finished,  my 
dinner  partner  brought  me  some  orangeade.  There 
was  some  sort  of  liqueur  in  it,  I  think,  and  I  did  not 
like  the  taste,  but  the  room  was  hot  and  I  was  thirsty 
and  drank  it  all.  Shortly  after  that  I  came  home. 


A    BACK   EDDY  69 

Therese,  Edith's  maid,  was  waiting  for  me  in  the 
motor." 

"And  when  you  got  home-    — ?  " 

"  Edith  had  gone  to  bed  and  John  had  not  come 
in.  I  did  not  want  to  disturb  Edith,  as  she  has  been 
sleeping  poorly,  so  I  put  the  pearls  in  the  drawer  of 
my  toilet  table  and  dropped  the  key  in  one  of  my 
stockings.  I  don't  think  that  I  was  ever  so  sleepy 
in  my  life,  and  when  I  woke  up  I  had  a  splitting 
headache,  which  I  put  down  to  that  nasty  sweet 
orangeade  and  the  stuff  in  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I.  "  That's  quite  enough, 
Miss  Dalghren." 

"Have  you  got  a  clue?"   asked  John. 

"  I  have,"  I  answered. 

"  And  you  think  that  you  can  get  back  the 
pearls?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  and  turned  to  Edith.  "  Are 
your  pearls  safe?"  I  asked. 

Edith  nodded.  "  I  haven't  looked,"  said  she, 
"  but  it's  not  necessary.  I  opened  the  safe  to  get 
Mary's  out  last  night  and  mine  were  there.  I  did 
not  leave  the  room  after  that,  as  I  was  not  feeling 
well,  and  had  my  dinner  in  bed.  Nobody  could 
have  come  into  the  room  during  the  night  because  — 
because  I  did  not  go  to  sleep." 

"  Not  at  all?  "  I  asked  quickly. 

"  Not  a  wink,"  she  confessed,  and  the  colour 
came  into  her  cheeks.  "  I  heard  every  quarter 
from  the  clocks  at  St.  Francois  Xavier  and  the 
Invalides." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  I,  guessing  why  she  had  not 
slept,  "  it's  as  you  say  hardly  worth  while  to  look. 


70  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Now  I  will  say  au'voir,  as  there  is  no  time  to  lose 
if  I  want  to  get  the  pearls." 

So  I  went  out  and  jumped  into  the  little  car  and 
started  back  up  town  alone.  The  whole  business 
was  pretty  plain  to  me,  but  there  were  a  few  details 
I  wanted  to  study  out.  Ivan,  as  you  may  remember, 
was  the  man  who  had  given  me  the  job  of  stealing 
Edith's  jewels.  He  was  the  chief  executive  of  the 
Paris  mob  of  thieves,  some  of  whom  I  had  met  that 
night  at  Leontine's  house  in  Passy.  Ivan  never  did 
any  of  the  active  work.  He  was  a  clubman  and  din 
er-out,  and  when  he  was  asked  to  some  rich  house  he 
looked  things  over,  and  if  the  proposition  seemed  a 
good  one,  assigned  it  to  some  worker  who  robbed 
the  house  and  turned  over  the  swag  to  Ivan  who  dis 
posed  of  it,  deducting  his  percentage.  If  the  job 
went  wrong  and  the  burglar  got  caught,  there  was  a 
fund  to  defend  him.  Ivan  kept  his  hands  clean  and 
was  always  in  some  conspicuous  place  on  the  night 
of  the  theft. 

So  far,  all  was  clear  as  spring-water.  The  next 
thing  was  to  find  out  who  had  the  pearls  at  the  pres 
ent  moment.  The  more  I  thought  of  this,  the  more 
I  became  convinced  that  the'  disposition  of  jewels 
stolen  by  the  mob  was  Leontine's  work.  Leontine 
was  undoubtedly  the  fence.  Being  under  the  pro 
tectorship  of  Kharkoff,  who  was  fabulously  rich, 
she  might  be  expected  to  have  valuable  jewels,  and 
these  she  might  also  be  expected  to  dispose  of,  for 
various  reasons  common  to  women  of  her  position. 
Her  words  to  me  at  Bagatelle  crossed  my  mind:  "  I 
am  a  thief  on  a  bigger  scale  than  you  ever  dreamed 
of."  There  was  little  doubt  in  my  mind  that  at  the 


A    BACK   EDDY  71 

present  moment  Leontine  had  Miss  Dalghren's 
pearls. 

The  next  thing  was  to  get  them,  and  I  had  no 
great  fear  of  my  ability  to  do  that.  I  would  go  to- 
Leontine  and  give  it  to  her  straight  that  unless  she 
handed  them  over  I  would  call  on  the  Prefect  of 
Police,  and  lay  information  for  the  rounding  up  of 
the  whole  mob:  Ivan,  Maxeville,  or  Chu-Chu  le 
Tondeur,  as  he  was  known,  the  women  sonris 
d'hotel  and  herself.  I  would  tell  her  in  strong 
terms  that  they  had  played  it  rotten  low  on  me. 
Here  was  I,  who  a  few  weeks  before  had  got  myself 
pinched  to  save  their  hides,  being  used  as  a  shield 
for  them  to  crawl  behind  when  they  stole  pearls 
from  the  house  of  the  people  who  had  saved  me  a 
life  sentence.  This  would  be  a  dangerous  game  for 
me,  I  knew,  but  I  never  scared  worth  a  cent,  and  by 
the  time  I  got  to  the  office  I  was  so  tearing  mad 
that  I  asked  nothing  better  than  to  take  on  the 
whole  slimy  gang. 

So  I  sent  Leontine  a  pneumatique  to  say  that  she 
could  take  her  choice  between  meeting  me  at  Baga 
telle  the  next  morning  at  eleven  or  later  in  the  day 
at  the  Prefecture  of  Police.  I  knew  that  she  might 
not  be  able  to  get  away  from  Kharkoff  in  the  after 
noon  or  evening,  but  as  he  was  A.D.C.  to  one  of  the 
Grand  Dukes  and  supposed  to  report  every  morn 
ing  before  mid-day,  the  chances  were  that  the  girl 
could  manage  a  morning  rendezvous. 

That  night,  at  about  eleven,  I  went  into  the  Auto 
mobile  Club.  There  was  a  baccarat  game  already 
going,  and  meeting  an  acquaintance,  who  was  mana 
ger  of  a  motor  concern  near  our  office,  the  pair  of  us 


72  THE    CLOSING    NET 

strolled  in  to  watch  the  play.  Almost  the  first  person 
my  eyes  rested  on  was  John.  His  back  was  turned 
to  us,  but  my  acquaintance  had  recognised  him  also 
and  said  to  me: 

"  There  is  your  patron,  M.  Clamart.  You  will 
have  to  sell  a  good  many  cars  to  pay  for  his  game  of 
last  night." 

"Really?"  I  answered  carelessly.  "Was  it  as 
bad  as  that?  " 

"  I  heard  that  his  losses  were  about  forty  thousand 
francs,"  said  he. 

I  shrugged.  "  M.  Cuttynge  told  me  that  he  had 
been  unlucky,"  I  said;  "  but  he  spoke  of  his  losses  as 
trifling." 

"  I  myself  saw  him  lose  thirty  thousand,"  says 
my  friend;  "but  these  Americans  and  Russians  do 
not  think  much  of  a  sum  like  that.  Kharkoff  was 
the  heavy  winner.  He  won  over  eighty  thousand 
francs." 

"  Do  you  think  that  he  will  play  to-night?  "  I 
asked. 

"  It  is  probable.  They  told  me  to-day  in  his  gar 
age  on  the  Rue  Guyot,  that  he  was  off  for  London 
to-morrow  in  his  car." 

"Alone?  "I  asked. 

"  Probably  '  la  femme  du  dlable  '  will  go  with  him. 
But  since  Kharkoff  is  going  to  London  to-morrow, 
to-night  will  be  his  last  chance  to  play,  and  he  will 
probably  play  high.  It  will  be  interesting  to  watch." 

I  assented,  and  we  turned  our  attention  to  the 
game.  But  my  mind  was  not  on  the  table.  I  was 
thinking  of  John  and  his  loss  of  the  night  before;  a 
loss  that  he  could  ill  afford,  as  we  needed 


A    BACK    EDDY  73 

every  cent  that  could  be  scraped  together  for 
our  business.  But  what  interested  me  even 
more  was  Kharkoff's  journey  to  London.  I 
had  little  doubt  that  Leontine  would  take  the  pearls 
with  her,  to  dispose  of  in  England.  If  the  Prince 
were  to  make  an  early  start  for  the  run  to  Boulogne, 
Leontine  might  not  be  able  to  meet  me  at  Bagatelle 
—  or  at  least,  this  would  be  so  difficult  that  she  might 
prefer  to  run  the  risk  of  my  fulfilling  my  threat. 

If  possible,  then,  I  must  manage  to  see  her  that 
very  night.  It  seemed  likely  that  Kharkoff  would 
want  to  follow  up  his  luck  at  the  tables,  and,  having 
once  started  to  play,  he  might  be  counted  on  as  a 
fixture  until  the  game  closed.  This  would  give  me  a 
chance  to  see  Leontine;  and,  for  that  matter,  the 
sooner  I  had  it  out  with  her  over  the  pearls  the  bet 
ter. 

So  I  found  an  inconspicuous  corner  near  the  door 
and  waited.  As  the  game  proceeded  it  appeared 
that  John  was  winning,  and  I  decided  to  have  a 
straight  talk  with  him  the  next  day  and  try  to  per 
suade  him  to  leave  baccarat  alone.  The  chances 
were,  I  thought,  that  if  he  managed  to  recoup  to  any 
extent  he  would  listen  to  reason,  being  a  good-na 
tured  sort  of  chap  and  not  hard  to  influence. 

A  little  after  midnight  there  was  a  sudden  stir 
in  one  room  and  the  crowd  not  playing  turned  to 
look  over  their  shoulders.  "  Le  Prince,"  I  heard, 
and  here  was  Kharkoff's  big  bulk  at  my  shoulder. 
He  crowded  in  to  reach  the  table,  and  I  slipped  out 
and  made  for  the  street. 

"  And  now,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  for  Leontine." 


CHAPTER  V 

LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH 

OUT  I  went  and  jumped  into  a  taxi-cab,  telling  the 
driver  to  stop  at  the  corner  of  Leontine's  street. 

With  the  inside  knowledge  that  I  had  it  was  not 
difficult  to  reconstruct  the  theft  of  Mary  Dalghren's 
pearls.  Leontine,  I  thought,  was  behind  the  whole 
dirty  business.  She  was  playing  a  double  game,  or 
possibly  a  triple  one;  the  pearls  themselves,  an  act  of 
revenge  and  spite  against  a  girl  she  no  doubt  consid 
ered  to  be  her  successful  rival,  and,  finally,  the  chance 
of  driving  me  back  to  the  Under-World.  Jealousy 
had  probably  induced  her  to  do  what  she  would  never 
for  a  moment  have  thought  of  doing  otherwise.  She 
had  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  in  love  with 
Miss  Dalghren,  and  had  decided  that  it  was  this, 
more  than  gratitude,  which  had  led  me  to  stick  to  my 
good  resolutions. 

Therefore  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  get  the 
pearls,  thinking  that,  even  if  the  actual  suspicion  did 
not  fall  upon  me,  I  would,  nevertheless,  be  held  in  a 
measure  to  blame,  and  that  this  might  lead  to  a 
rupture  with  my  benefactors  which  would  drive  me 
back  to  my  old  life.  So  she  had  seen  Ivan  and  per 
suaded  him  to  undertake  the  job.  This,  I  thought, 
had  not  been  very  easy  for  her  to  do.  I  had  read 
Ivan's  character  as  that  of  a  man  of  soul  and  senti 
ment.  He  was  an  enemy  to  Society,  like  the  rest 
of  them,  but  his  Slavic  nature  was  warm  and  emo- 

74 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    75 

tional,  and  I  knew  that  he  had  deeply  appreciated  the 
sacrifice  that  I  had  made  when  I  surrendered  my 
liberty  in  order  to  save  himself  and  the  others.  Dur 
ing  the  time  that  I  was  in  the  Sante  he  had  sent  one 
of  his  gang,  disguised  as  a  priest,  to  tell  me  that  if 
money  could  help  me  to  get  my  freedom  I  might  rest 
assured  that  none  would  be  spared  in  the  attempt. 

But  Leontine's  persuasion  had  overcome  his 
scruples.  The  girl  was  an  indispensable  ally  to  him 
in  his  work,  and  I  more  than  half-suspected  that 
he  was  himself  in  love  with  her.  I  remembered  how 
his  lustrous  eyes  had  glowed  as  they  rested  on  her 
the  night  of  the  dinner-party  at  Leontine's  house. 
He  had  accordingly  undertaken  the  theft,  and  the 
opportunity  to  carry  it  off  had  come  sooner  and  more 
easily,  no  doubt,  than  he  had  hoped  for.  On  meet 
ing  Miss  Dalghren  by  chance  at  the  Billings'  dinner 
he  had  sent  a  word  to  Chu-Chu  to  get  on  the  job. 
It  was  even  possible  that  Chu-Chu  himself  had  been 
at  the  dinner,  for  as  M.  de  Maxeville,  clubman  and 
officier  de  la  legion  d'honneur,  he  went  a  good  deal  in 
Society.  Chu-Chu  might  have  left  early,  and  have 
been  in  or  about  the  Cuttynge's  house  when  Miss 
Dalghren  got  home.  Miss  Dalghren  had  said  that 
after  playing  the  harp  Ivan  had  brought  her  a  glass 
of  orangeade  which  had  a  queer  taste,  as  if  from 
some  liqueur.  It  was  possible  that  Ivan  had  drugged 
the  beverage  with  an  opiate  not  strong  enough  to 
take  immediate  effect  but  which  would  ensure  of  her 
not  waking  once  she  fell  asleep.  Miss  Dalghren  had 
remarked  that  she  had  never  felt  so  sleepy  in  her 
life  and  had  awakened  with  a  splitting  headache. 

The  chance  of  Edith  being  asleep,  and  John  at 


76  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  club,  had  made  Chu-Chu's  work  only  too  easy. 
Knowing  the  ruthless  character  of  the  man,  the  only 
thing  that  surprised  me  was  that  he  had  not  con 
tinued  his  efforts  and  gone  upstairs  to  crack  the  safe, 
either  gagging  or  strangling  Edith,  for  Chu-Chu  was 
a  killer.  But  no  doubt  Ivan's  instructions  had 
strictly  forbidden  anything  of  this  sort  and  Chu-Chu 
had  not  dared  to  disobey. 

This  was  the  way  I  reasoned  it  out;  and  whether 
the  details  were  accurate  or  not,  I  had  no  doubt  that 
the  main  features  were  correct.  I  was  firmly  con 
vinced  that  Ivan  would  never  have  played  me  such 
a  trick  but  for  Leontine's  influence.  There  is  a  pro 
fessional  etiquette  observed  between  thieves  of  the 
highest  class,  just  as  there  is  between  swell  members 
of  other  professions;  and  although  it  is  not  always 
strictly  adhered  to,  there  was  in  this  case  a  strong 
obligation  to  me.  As  to  the  location  of  the  pearls, 
I  was  sure  that  they  were  now  in  Leontine's  posses 
sion,  having  been  first  turned  over  to  Ivan  by  Chu- 
Chu  and  then  delivered  to  Leontine  by  Ivan,  that 
she  might  dispose  of  them  in  England  or  elsewhere. 

I  paid  off  my  taxi  at  the  head  of  the  Rue  de  Passy 
and  walked  quickly  to  Leontine's  little  house.  There 
was  a  single  light  in  one  of  the  upper  windows. 
Hardly  had  I  rung  the  gate-bell  when  the  door 
opened  and  a  manservant  came  out  and  let  me  in. 

"Mile.  Petrovski?"  I  asked. 

He  gave  me  a  quick  glance  and  I  recognised  him  as 
the  same  person  who  had  served  us  the  night  of  the 
dinner-party. 

u  Mademoiselle  is  expecting  monsieur,"  said  he, 
"  if  monsieur  will  take  the  trouble  to  enter." 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    77 

I  followed  him  into  the  house,  when  he  ushered 
me  to  the  little  Moorish  room  overlooking  the  garden 
at  the  rear.  Like  most  places  of  the  sort,  there  were 
two  entrances  —  front  and  rear. 

I  had  not  long  to  wait.  There  was  a  rustle  in  the 
corridor,  a  light  step,  and  Leontine  entered.  She 
wore  the  evening  gown  of  orange-coloured  chiffon 
which  I  remembered,  and  for  a  moment  the  inhuman 
beauty  of  her  almost  took  away  my  breath,  just  as 
it  had  at  our  first  meeting.  There  was  a  warm  flush 
on  her  cheeks  and  her  eyes  shone  like  yellow  dia 
monds. 

"  Frank,"  she  murmured,  and  gave  me  both  hands. 

I  held  them  for  an  instant,  then  let  them  fall,  and 
stepped  back  to  look  at  her.  The  room  was  softly 
lighted  by  two  tall  lamps  which  shone  through  am 
ber-coloured  shades. 

"  So  you  expected  me?  "  said  I. 

"  Yes.  I  received  your  pneumatique;  but  thought 
it  probable  that  you  would  learn  that  I  was  leaving 
for  London  to-morrow  with  Kharkoff." 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself?  "  I  asked. 

"  Horribly,"  she  threw  back  her  head  and 
laughed.  My  word,  but  the  pearls  which  she  had 
stolen  were  no  more  perfect  than  her  teeth,  nor  of 
a  purer  quality  than  her  round  throat.  There  was 
nothing  artificial  about  the  laugh  either.  It  was  low 
and  gurgling  and  as  full  of  real  mirth  as  though  what 
she  had  done  were  the  funniest  thing  that  ever  hap 
pened. 

"  But  you  are  the  one  who  ought  to  be  ashamed, 
Frank,"  said  she.  "  I  never  received  such  a  horrid 
pneumatique,  except  from  Kharkoff,  and  he's  a  sav- 


78  THE    CLOSING    NET 

age.     It's  not  good  manners  to  threaten  a  lady." 

"  It's  even  more  impolite  to  threaten  her  by  word 
of  mouth,"  said  I,  "  but  that's  what  I  am  here  for. 
That  was  a  low-down  trick  of  yours,  Leontine.  I 
never  would  have  believed  it  of  you.  What  made 
you  do  it?  " 

Her  eyes  danced.  "  There  were  two  reasons," 
said  she.  "  First,  I  wanted  to  get  you  back  to  your 
own  again.  The  other  was  because  I  hate  that  lump 
of  a  girl  you  are  always  with.  The  last  time  we  met 
it  was  all  that  I  could  do  to  keep  from  slashing  her 
across  the  face  with  my  crop.  You  don't  really  care 
for  her,  do  you,  Frank?  Such  a  lump  of  a  flaxen- 
headed  doll." 

"  I  don't  care  for  her  at  all,"  I  answered.  :'  I 
have  been  teaching  her  to  drive  because  I  was  ordered 
to.  Those  reasons  are  not  enough  to  excuse  your 
rounding  on  a  pal,  my  dear." 

"I  am  not  excusing  myself  —  and  you  are  no 
longer  a  pal.  You  refused  to  be  a  pal." 

'  There's  no  use  going  into  that,"  said  I,  "  where 
are  those  pearls?  " 

She  gave  me  a  teasing  look. 

"  Don't  you  wish  you  knew?  "  said  she. 

"  I  do  know,"  I  answered.  "  They  are  here. 
Hand  them  over,  Leontine.  Your  plot  has  failed. 
My  friends  believe  in  me  as  much  as  ever,  but  they 
think  that  my  old  pals  have  played  it  on  me  mighty 
low.  So  do  I.  Why  don't  you  tell  the  truth  and 
say  that  you  wanted  the  money  and  knew  that  you 
ran  no  risk  because,  owing  to  what  they  did  for  me, 
the  hands  of  the  victims  were  tied?  " 

Leontine's  eyes  blazed.      "  Wanted  the  money!  " 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH    79 

she  cried.  "Come  —  you  know  better  than  that, 
mon  ami.  Hadn't  I  just  offered  to  pay  back  what 
your  mushy  relatives  had  spent  on  you?  " 

"  For  your  own  selfish  purposes,"  I  answered. 
"  Failing  in  that,  you  thought  you  might  as  well  make 
a  little  out  of  me  in  a  different  way." 

The  blood  rushed  into  her  face. 

"  You  lie !  "  she  cried.  "  You  lie,  and  you  know 
it!" 

"Who  is  impolite  now?"  I  asked.  "However, 
it's  all  right.  I  didn't  come  here  to  bandy  compli 
ments." 

The  criminality  in  the  girl  flashed  out  of  her  yel 
low  eyes. 

"No?"  she  asked.  "Then  what  did  you  come 
for?" 

"  I  came  to  get  the  pearls,"  I  said,  "  and  some 
thing  tells  me  that  I  am  going  to  succeed.  If  you 
stole  them  for  the  reason  that  you  say,  you  might 
as  well  give  them  back.  Your  plan  has  absolutely 
failed.  I  have  always  played  fair  myself,  and  was 
fool  enough  to  have  a  little  sentiment  about  '  honour 
amongst  thieves.'  But  I  know  better  now.  This 
experience  alone  would  be  enough  to  sicken  me  with 
graft  and  start  me  on  the  level,  even  if  there  were 
no  other  reasons.  But  then,  I  was  an  American 
crook,  and  that  makes  a  difference." 

Leontine's  face  turned  the  colour  of  ivory — a 
dead,  creamy  white  —  and  her  eyes  seemed  to 
darken. 

'  You  are  a  fool,  Frank,"  she  said,  breathing  hard. 

'  You  may  think  that  your  friends  still  believe  in  you, 

but  they  don't.     Of  course,  they  would  pretend  to, 


80  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  save  their  own  self-respect.  Have  they  said  any 
thing  to  you  about  your  handkerchief  found  in  that 
girl's  room  —  and  your  monogram  cigarette  —  and 
the  prints  of  your  tennis  shoes  on  the  path  out 
side  ?  " 

"What's  that?"  I  cried,  turning  on  her  so  sud 
denly  that  she  shrank  back  a  little. 

"  I   see  that  they  haven't."     She   gave   her  low 

laugh,  but  there  was  no  amusement  in  it  this  time. 

'  Yes,  my  dear,"  she  went  on  mockingly,  "  Chu-Chu 

first  paid  a  visit  to  your  rooms  and  got  what  he 

needed  

"  So  it  was  Chu-Chu !  "  I  snarled.  "  I'll  twist  his 
hairy  neck  for  that — and  you  can  tell  him  so  for 
me." 

"  Chu-Chu  takes  good  care  of  his  neck.  But  you 
see,  Frank,  you  are  outclassed.  Better  come  back 
to  the  fold,  my  little  boy." 

"You  think  so,  do  you?"  I  answered  quietly. 
;<  Well  then,  my  dear  girl,  let  me  tell  you  something. 
If  you  think  that  you  are  going  to  play  me  for  a 
sucker,  you're  wrong.  I'm  either  an  old  pal  or  I'm 
an  honest  citizen.  If  I'm  the  first,  hand  over  those 
pearls.  If  I'm  the  honest  citizen,  then  look  out  for 
squalls." 

Leontine  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then,  says 
she,  softly: 

'What  do  you  mean?" 

"  I  mean  this.  That  if  you  choose  to  consider  me 
as  an  honest  citizen,  I  shall  act  like  one.  You  like 
your  little  joke  and  so  do  I.  You  got  Chu-Chu  to 
play  yours.  I'll  get  the  Prefect  of  Police  to  play 
mine  —  and  glad  enough  he'll  be  to  do  it." 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    81 

Leontine's  eyes  narrowed.  Her  face  was  like  al 
abaster. 

"  Indeed?  "  says  she  softly.  "  And  how  long  do 
you  think  that  our  honest  little  citizen  would  be  apt 
to  live  after  playing  such  a  joke?"  She  smiled. 
"  I  think  that  he  would  go  straight  to  Heaven,  where 
he  belongs." 

"  Not  until  he  had  sent  an  old  pal  or  two  to  the 
other  place,"  I  answered.  "  M.  de  Maxeville  would 
probably  find  his  handsome  head  under  the  guillotine 
-  where  it  belongs." 

Leontine  took  a  swift  step  forward  and  her  hand 
fell  on  my  wrist  like  a  cold,  steel  bracelet  —  and  I 
know  how  that  feels. 

"  Frank,"  she  whispered,  "  don't  joke  on  such  vital 
matters.  It's  only  a  joke,  of  course  —  but  it  is  not  a 


nice  one." 

u 


Well  then,"  said  I,  "  it's  not  a  joke  —  and  the 
sooner  you  get  that  through  your  pretty,  curly  pate 
the  better  for  all  hands." 

She  dropped  my  wrist  and  stepped  back,  her  eyes 
wide  and  filled  with  a  genuine  look  of  horror.  By 
George,  my  friend,  you'd  have  taken  her  for  the 
President  of  a  Benevolent  Society  listening  to  a 
proposition  to  ditch  a  trainload  of  preachers. 

"  I  don't  believe  it!  "  she  cried.  "  I  will  not  be 
lieve  it!  What,  betray  your  former  pals  to  the  po 
lice.  You,  Frank?  " 

I  began  to  feel  my  patience  slipping  her  cogs. 

"  Yes,"  I  snarled,  "  I.  What's  the  matter  with 
you,  girl  ?  Haven't  you  got  good  sense  ?  You  make 
me  sick!  Why,  just  look  at  it;  the  other  night  I 
had  a  good-enough  job  all  done  down  there  at  the 


82  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Cuttynge's  house.  I'd  done  all  that  I  set  out  to  do. 
And  because  you  made  me  lose  my  head  with  your 
hugs  and  kisses,  we  smashed  around  like  a  brace 
of  drunken  dagoes  and  roused  up  the  house  and  had 
to  do  a  quick  get-away.  Then  when  I  saw  the  agent 
about  to  nab  the  car  I  tackled  him,  broken  arm  and 
all,  and  held  him  while  the  rest  of  you  quit  it.  Don't 
you  suppose  that  I  could  have  saved  my  bacon  if 
I'd  had  a  mind  to?  Broken  arm  or  not,  I'd  have 
been  over  the  wall  opposite  and  away  from  there 
like  a  scared  cat.  Do  I  look  like  the  sort  of  goop 
to  get  collared  by  a  French  cop?  And  the  rest  of 
you  would  have  got  nailed.  Now  what  do  I  get  in 
return?  You  send  that  animal,  Chu-Chu,  to  rob  the 
house  of  the  people  who  saved  me  a  life  sentence, 
and  get  away  with  a  rope  of  pearls  and  stick  the 
blame  on  me,  knowing  well  that  my  friends  have  got 
to  sit  tight  and  take  it  on  account  of  what  they  did 
for  me.  And  now  you  have  the  cast-iron  nerve  to 
tell  me  that  I'm  to  sit  tight  and  take  it,  too.  No! 
You  don't  know  me  girl.  Hand  over  those  pearls, 
and  be  quick  about  it,  or  by  the  Power  that  made  us 
both  wrong  I'll  have  you  and  your  whole  filthy  mob 
in  the  dock.  I've  seen  some  dirty  tricks  in  my  life, 
but  never  such  a  skunk  game  as  this." 

Leontine  had  drawn  back  and  was  staring  at  me 
with  a  white  face  and  flaming  eyes.  For  a  moment 
she  raised  her  hands  to  her  temples,  standing  rigid 
and  erect,  and  with  a  curious  expression  as  of  a  per- 
soa  who  thinks  deeply  and  with  strong  intensity. 
Then  suddenly  her  face  seemed  to  stiffen.  She 
dropped  her  arms,  and,  turning,  rushed  to  a  little 
writing  desk  in  the  corner  of  the  room. 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH    83 

My  friend,  in  my  old  trade  the  man  lived  longest 
who  thought  quickly  and  took  no  sentimental  chances. 
I  knew  what  she  was  after  and  crossed  that  room 
with  the  spring  of  a  performing  panther.  Even 
then  I  was  barely  in  time,  for  Leontine  had  snatched 
a  revolver  from  the  drawer  of  the  desk  and  whirled 
about  to  face  me. 

But  if  she  was  quick,  then  I  was  quicker,  and  had 
her  by  both  wrists.  The  little  revolver  flew  out  of 
her  hand,  whirled  glittering  across  the  room,  and 
landed  on  a  divan.  My  grip  on  her  wrists  tightened 
so  that  she  gave  a  little  cry  of  pain. 

"Curse  you!"  she  shrieked.  "Let  me  go! 
Wait  until  Ivan  hears  of  this  !  " 

She  leaned  forward,  thrusting  her  face  almost  in 
mine. 

"You  swine!"  she  snarled.  "If  Ivan  guessed 
what  was  in  your  mind  you'd  never  live  to  get  home ! 
You  traitor !  " 

She  went  too  far.  All  the  criminality  in  me  came 
blazing  out. 

"  I'll  wring  Ivan's  snipe  neck,  you  cat!  "  I  growled, 
"  and  I'll  skin  Chu-Chu  with  his  own  knife.  Do 
you  think  you  can  scare  me  with  your  mob  o'  yellow 
crooks?  Scare  '  Tide-water  Clam  '?  Do  you  think 
there's  an  ounce  of  scare  in  '  The  Swell '?  Did  you 
think  so  when  I  stepped  in  front  of  you  and  took  the 
bullet  you  would  have  got?  You're  up  against  an 
American,  you  slut,  and,  crook  or  no  crook,  he's  good 
for  you  and  your  dago  bunch."  And  with  that,  my 
friend,  and  perhaps  I  should  shame  to  tell  it,  but  I 
don't,  I  loosed  her  two  wrists,  shifted  my  grip  like 
lightning  to  her  soft,  round  shoulders,  and  shook 


84 

her  so  savagely  that  her  hair  came  tumbling  over  her 
face. 

"  Don't  talk  scare  to  me,  you  little  fool,"  I  said, 
and  threw  her  across  the  room  and  on  the  divan. 
"  Pick  up  your  gun  and  shoot,"  I  cried.  '  There 
it  is  beside  you.  Shoot,  and  save  your  pretty, 
cowardly  pelt,  for  I  give  it  to  you  cold  that  you  are 
up  against  the  real  thing  at  last."  And  I  leaned 
across  the  table  and  glared  at  her. 

Leontine  flung  back  her  hair  with  both  hands.  It 
was  short  and  thick  and  curly  and  only  reached  to  her 
chin.  She  snatched  up  the  revolver,  raised  it,  and 
covered  my  chest.  I  wasn't  thinking  of  long-life 
policy  just  then.  I  was  too  mad. 

"  Unhook  her.  Empty  your  fool-gun,"  I  taunted 
her.  "  A  lot  I  care." 

The  muzzle  wavered.  I  was  staring  into  the  eyes 
over  it,  willing  her  not  to  press  the  trigger.  I  won, 
too,-  for  suddenly  her  pupils  dilated  and  the  yellow 
eyes  grew  dark.  Her  stiffened  arm  drooped.  Then 
she  dropped  the  pistol  and  flung  herself  face  down 
ward  on  the  cushions. 

I  leaned  across  the  table  watching  her.  Then, 
straightening  up,  I  pulled  out  a  cigarette  and  lighted 
it.  Leontine  did  not  move,  but  her  bare  shoulders 
were  heaving.  The  clock  in  the  hall  struck  one.  I 
dropped  into  a  chair  by  the  table  and  smoked  and 
watched  her. 

Presently  she  raised  her  head,  stared  at  me  a 
moment,  then  looked  at  the  revolver  shining  at  her 
feet.  She  reached  down,  picked  it  up,  and  laid  it  on 
the  table.  Then  she  looked  at  me  and  laughed. 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH    85 

"  You  win,  Frank,"  she  said  unsteadily,  struggling 
to  her  feet. 

"  Of  course  I've  won,"  I  answered,  and  laid  down 
the  cigarette.  "  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

She  swept  around  the  table,  then  dropped  at  my 
feet  on  the  rug,  and,  gripping  me  by  both  knees,  laid 
her  head  against  them. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  you've  won."  Her  voice 
broke.  "  And  oh,  my  dear,  I'm  glad,  I'm  glad,  I'm 
glad!" 

"  Then  go  and  get  the  pearls,"  I  answered  without 
moving,  and  picked  up  my  cigarette  again. 

"  You  shall  have  the  pearls,"  she  murmured. 
"  Swear  to  me  that  you  don't  love  her,  Frank."  She 
laughed  hysterically.  "  Chu-Chu  told  me  that  while 
he  was  getting  the  pearls  she  was  snoring  like  a  pig. 
Snoring,  Frank."  She  laughed  again. 

"  Thanks  to  Ivan's  dope,"  said  I.  "  But  she  can 
snore  without,  for  all  me." 

"You  don't  love  her?" 

u  No,  I  don't,"  I  answered  impatiently.  "  Where 
are  those  pearls?  It's  getting  late." 

"  Ivan  has  them.  I'll  give  you  a  note  to  him," 
she  said;  and  I  felt  that  she  was  telling  the  truth. 
"  He  didn't  want  to  do  it,  Frank.  He  absolutely 
refused  at  first.  Chu-Chu  and  I  had  an  awful  time 
persuading  him.  I'm  sorry,  Frank.  Kiss  me,  and 
say  that  you  forgive  me." 

I  leaned  over  and  kissed  her.  "  I'll  forgive  you 
when  I  get  the  pearls,"  I  said. 

Her  bare  arms  flashed  up  around  my  neck,  and, 
for  a  moment,  held  me  tight.  Then  she  scrambled 


86  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  her  feet  and  went  to  the  writing  desk,  where  for 
several  minutes  she  scribbled  fast. 

"  There,  Frank,"  said  she,  rising  and  turning  to 
me,  as  smooth  and  sleek  and  unruffled  as  though  she 
had  never  been  mauled  about  like  a  mutinous  school 
boy.  She  had  pushed  back  her  short,  wavy  hair,  and 
jammed  down  over  it  the  gold  band  which  she  usually 
wore  to  keep  it  in  place  and  which  had  flown  off  when 
I  gave  her  the  shaking;  and  to  look  at  her,  no  one 
would  ever  have  guessed  that  anything  out  of  the 
ordinary  had  happened.  Such  rows,  after  all,  are 
food  and  drink  to  women  of  the  Leontine  sort;  they 
love  the  excitement,  and  like  to  rouse  the  dominant 
male  in  the  man  on  whom  their  fancy  happens  to 
rest.  But  I  thought  she  would  have  some  blue  finger 
marks  on  her  shoulders  the  following  day. 

She  slipped  the  note  into  an  envelope  and  handed 
it  to  me  unsealed. 

"  Here,  Frank,"  she  said,  "  take  this  note  to  Ivan. 
He  never  wanted  to  take  up  the  job  and  he  will  be 
quite  content  to  give  you  back  your  old  pearls.  I'll 
have  to  make  it  right  with  Chu-Chu,  though.  He 
did  his  part,  poor  man." 

"  I've  got  a  little  score  with  him,  too,  on  the  debit 
side,"  I  answered.  "  Better  let  me  settle  mine  out 
first;  it  might  cancel  yours." 

"Be  careful,  Frank;  and  don't  make  any  more 
threats.  If  Ivan  were  to  guess  what  was  in  your 
mind  you  would  be  like  a  rabbit  in  the  coils  of  a  cobra. 
His  system  is  like  a  cancer  —  it  sifts  in  everywhere." 

"  The  mob  may  be  the  cobra,"  said  I,  "  but  I  ain't 
a  rabbit  by  a  whole  lot.  I  know  my  way  home  in 
the  dark." 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    87 

;'  Don't  take  any  more  chances,  Frank,  as  you  did 
to-night.  And  don't  think  that  I  am  giving  up  the 
pearls  because  of  your  threats.  I  did  so  because  you 
are  the  first  man  who  ever  mastered  me.  Kiss  me, 
Frank." 

She  held  up  her  lovely,  flushed  face,  and  I  kissed 
her  twice. 

"  I  always  knew  that  there  was  a  lot  of  good  in 
you,  my  dear,"  I  said. 

"  There's  a  lot  of  bad,  too.  When  you  threw 
me  over  there  on  the  divan  I  wanted  to  murder  you. 
I  meant  to  call  up  Ivan  after  you  had  left  and  tell 
him  what  had  happened.  You  would  never  have 
lived  to  go  to  the  prefecture,  Frank.  But  when  you 
reminded  me  that  the  pistol  was  right  beside  me  and 
I  found  that  I  could  not  shoot  —  then  I  knew." 

She  turned  to  me,  her  eyes  misty  and  her  lips  quiv 
ering.  But  I  had  other  affairs  more  important  than 
to  sit  there  and  spoon  with  Leontine,  so  Igot  up  to 
go. 

'  Thanks  for  the  note,"  I  said,  "  and  forgive  me 
for  getting  rough.  I  lost  my  temper." 

'You've  found  something  else,"  she  said;  and 
there  was  a  break  in  her  voice.  "  Hereafter,  I'll 
play  fair,  Frank.  Good-night." 

So  out  I  went  and  walked  across  to  the  Chausee 
de  la  Muette,  where  there  is  a  cab-stand.  It  was  a 
good  hour  to  find  Ivan,  I  thought,  for  people  of  the 
Under-World  don't  waste  the  night  in  sleeping.  His 
address  was  on  the  note  and  my  taxi  pulled  up  in 
front  of  a  charming  little  house  over  by  the  Pare 
Monceau.  A  sharp-eyed  manservant  opened  the 
door  and  took  my  card,  saying  that  he  would  see  i£ 


88  THE    CLOSING    NET 

M.  le  Comte  was  at  home;  for  Ivan  sported  a  title. 
The  man  returned  at  once  and  asked  me  to  follow 
him.  We  went  up  a  flight  of  stairs  and  I  was  shown 
into  a  very  handsome  and  practical-looking  office, 
where  Ivan  himself,  in  a  velvet  costume  d'interieur 
was  seated  at  a  fine  mahogany  desk. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Clamart?  "  said  he,  rising. 
Ivan  spoke  perfect  English.  He  was  a  fine-looking 
fellow,  with  an  intelligent,  aristocratic  face,  tall  and 
slender  in  build,  and  with  beautiful  hands. 

I  replied  to  his  greeting  and  took  the  chair  which 
he  offered  me. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  delighted  I  was  to  learn 
of  your  release,"  said  he.  '  The  whole  situation 
was  most  dramatic;  such  a  chain  of  circumstance  as 
one  might  expect  to  find  in  a  book  or  a  play,  but  sel 
dom  finds  in  real  life,  even  in  a  profession  so  full 
of  startling  incident  as  my  own.  Fancy  being  con 
fronted  by  your  own  half-brother  while  working  a 
strange  house,  and  calmly  receiving  his  bullet  rather 
than  to  fire  upon  your  own  flesh  and  blood." 

''  It  might  interest  you  to  know,"  said  I,  "  that  I 
have  taken  bullets  before  rather  than  fire  on  a  person 
who  was  not  of  my  own  flesh  and  blood." 

"  Indeed?  "  said  Ivan,  raising  his  fine  brows. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  I,  leaning  forward  and  fasten 
ing  his  brilliant  eyes  with  mine,  "  I  have  been  a  suc 
cessful  thief  for  a  good  many  years.  The  profession 
interested  me  not  only  from  its  money  profit  and  ex 
citement  but  also  from  the  purely  artistic  point  of 
view.  I  enjoyed  exercising  my  wit  and  skill  against 
the  difficult  problems  presented,  and  have  always  been 
fascinated  by  the  interest  of  the  stalk.  A  big,  dark, 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH    89 

silent  house  which  I  knew  to  contain  treasure  ap 
pealed  to  me  in  much  the  same  way  that  a  dangerous 
gold  country  might  appeal  to  the  prospector.  I 
never  stole  from  poor  people,  and  there  has  never 
been  a  time  when  I  would  not  have  filled  a  position 
of  trust,  such  as  that  of  cashier  in  a  savings  bank, 
with  scrupulous  honesty.  This  was  not  because  of 
any  conscientous  principle,  but  merely  a  sportsman 
like  instinct.  My  purse  has  always  been  open  to 
the  needy  and  I  have  never  let  a  just  debt  go  un 
paid." 

Ivan  smiled.  "  I  can  readily  believe  you,"  he 
said.  "  In  fact,  you  quite  voice  my  own  code  of 
ethics." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  I,  "  that  I  cannot  agree 
with  you." 

Ivan's  thin,  black  eyebrows  lifted  and  a  tinge  of 
colour  showed  in  his  olive  cheeks. 

"  If  what  you  say  is  true,"  I  went  on,  "  how  was 
it  that  you  could  bring  yourself  to  take  advantage  of 
a  pal  whose  hands  were  tied  by  his  given  word  and 
use  him  as  a  scapegoat  for  your  own  gain?  Mon 
sieur,  theft  is  theft,  of  course,  and  in  this  wicked 
world  of  ours  every  man  is  for  himself,  and  the 
Devil  take  the  hindmost.  That  seems  to  be  the 
motto  that  most  people  live  by  —  from  the  pick 
pocket  to  the  high  financier.  But  as  I  see  it,  mon 
sieur,  it  is  a  d d  poor  motto  for  people  who  pre 
tend  to  have  any  code  of  honour  of  their  own, 
even  though  that  code  is  one  not  generally  recog 
nised." 

Ivan's  clear  complexion  grew  swarthy.  In  the 
Under-World  fierce  passions  lie  closer  to  the  surface 


90  THE    CLOSING    NET 

than  in  the  upper,  and  it  is  not  hard  to  bring  them 
to  the  top. 

1  What  do  you  mean?  "  he  snapped,  leaning  for 
ward  and  gripping  the  rim  of  his  desk.  His  eyes, 
however,  shifted  from  mine. 

"  I  mean,"  said  I,  "  that  a  man  may  be  a  thief  and 
an  enemy  to  Society  and  still  be  a  man,  with  his  own 
personal  pride  and  self-respect.  When  that  is  gone 
he  can't  claim  to  be  anything  but  a  low-grade,  mean- 
spirited  sneak." 

That  fetched  him.  Ivan  shed  his  sleek  polite 
ness  as  a  pickpocket  slips  out  of  his  coat. 

"  Be  careful  what  you  say,  Mr.  Clamart,"  he 
snarled,  his  face  purple.  "  I'm  not  accustomed  to 
such  talk." 

"  I  believe  you,"  I  answered.  "  Nor  are  you  ac 
customed  to  the  sort  of  act  that  causes  it.  I'd  be 
willing  to  stake  my  life  that  this  is  the  first  time  in 
yours  that  you  ever  paid  a  man  for  saving  you  and 
your  gang  by  shoving  a  job  on  him  as  you  have 
on  me.  You  are  a  master-criminal  and  you  couldn't 
be  unless  you  were  a  big  man.  Big  men  don't  do 
petty  things.  I  know  my  human  nature,  monsieur, 
and  I  place  you  as  gentleman  born,  like  myself,  who, 
for  reasons  of  his  own,  has  taken  up  crime  as  a  pro 
fession.  But  in  your  world  you  are  known  to  be 
square  and  generous  and  laid  out  on  large  lines. 
When  I  was  in  the  Sante  you  offered  to  back  me  with 
your  fund  and  you  would  have  done  it,  too.  And 
then,  when  I  get  out,  by  a  miracle,  you  turn  around 
and  steal  from  me  something  that  I  value  a  lot  more 
than  my  liberty.  Are  you  proud  of  that  job,  mon 
sieur?  " 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    91 

Ivan  pushed  himself  back  in  his  chair  and 
the  colour  went  out  of  his  face.  His  eyes  nar 
rowed. 

"  Do  your  friends  suspect  you?  "  he  muttered. 

"  I  can't  tell.  But  they  consider  the  loss  to  have 
come  as  the  result  of  what  they  did  for  me,  and  that 
very  act  of  theirs  ties  their  hands.  Worst  of  all, 
those  pearls  were  the  entire  fortune  of  a  poor  girl, 
a  penniless  music-teacher.  Her  father  died  bank 
rupt,  and  these  pearls  that  she  had  from  her  mother 
was  all  that  she  saved.  I  am  telling  you  the  truth. 
Of  course,  a  consistent  thief  doesn't  consider  the  sen 
timental  side.  But  there  were  other  things  to  be 
considered  in  this  job,  principally  myself." 

Ivan  stared  at  me  for  a  moment  in  silence.  His 
face  was  set  and  he  tugged  at  the  waxed  end  of  his 
black  moustache. 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  I  managed  the  af 
fair?  "  he  asked. 

I  made  a  tired  gesture. 

"  That's  too  easy,"  said  I.  "  You  took  out  Miss 
Dalghren  at  the  Billings  dinner.  You  probably 
doped  her  drink.  Then  you  set  Chu-Chu  on  the  job. 
I'm  not  altogether  a  fool." 

Ivan's  handsome  face  relaxed.  His  eyes  were 
clouded  and  he  rubbed  the  point  of  his  chin.  Then 
he  reached  for  an  inner  pocket,  hauled  out  a  package 
in  white  tissue  paper,  and  tossed  it  into  my  lap. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "  take  them,  Mr.  Clamart 
You  are  quite  right.  It  was  a  rotten  business.  I 
hated  it  from  the  start." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I.  "  To  tell  you  the  truth  I 
was  pretty  sure  that  it  wasn't  your  idea.  Leontine 


92  THE    CLOSING    NET 

put  you  up  to  it.     She  wanted  to  save  me  from  a 
hideous  life  of  honesty." 

Ivan  laughed,  then  shot  me  a  curious  look. 

"  Did  you  think  that  I'd  give  them  back?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  I  answered. 

His  face  cleared,  then  clouded  again.  "  I'll  have 
a  bad  time  with  Leontine,"  he  said,  "  and  worse  with 
Chu-Chu.  But  Chu-Chu  can  go  to  the  devil.  I've 
had  nearly  enough  of  Chu-Chu.  He  wanted  to  go 
after  the  other  string — Mrs.  Cuttynge's.  But  I 
flatly  forbade  that.  I  knew  that  Chu-Chu  would 
never  go  out  of  the  house  without  killing  somebody. 
An  unusual  man,  Mr.  Clamart.  He  is  purely  crim 
inal,  with  absolutely  no  saving  grace  of  soul.  He 
would  rather  kill  than  not.  It  is  a  pity,  because  he 
is  the  most  able  operator  that  I  have  ever  known. 
But  between. you  and  me,  I  distrust  Chu-Chu.  There 
was  a  job  I  worked  up  some  time  ago  and  Chu-Chu 
carried  it  off  brilliantly,  but  I  have  since  had  reason 
to  suspect  that  he  held  back  some  of  the  loot.  If  I 
could  be  sure  of  this,  Chu-Chu  would  never  get  an 
other  piece  of  work  from  me.  Look  here,  Mr. 
Clamart,  have  you  absolutely  decided  to  quit  the 
field?  I've  got  a  big  thing  for  next  week.  Is  it 
true  that  you  are  no  longer  one  of  us?  " 
'  True  as  gospel,"  said  I. 

'  That's  subject  to  error.     What  is  the  matter? 
In  love  with  Miss  Dalghren?  " 

"  No.     We  don't  even  get  on  well.      It's  merely 
that  I  have  passed  my  word." 

His  face  clouded.      "  It's  a  pity,"  said  he.     "  You 
and  I  could  do  big  things  together.     But  perhaps 


LEONTINE    SHOWS    HER    TEETH    93 

you  are  right.  What  are  you  doing  now?  Auto 
mobiles?  Leontine  told  me  something  of  the  sort. 
Well,  I'll  buy  a  car  from  you  some  day." 

We  both  laughed  and  I  got  up  to  go.  He  saw 
me  downstairs  and  we  shook  hands  at  the  door. 

As  soon  as  I  got  back  to  my  rooms  I  wrote  a 
pneumatique  to  Leontine  telling  her  of  my  success 
with  Ivan  and  asking  her  to  say  nothing  about  our 
interview,  as  I  wished  Ivan  to  believe  that  I  had 
counted  entirely  on  his  sense  of  fairness.  This 
would  suit  Leontine,  I  thought,  as  she  would  not  care 
to  have  Ivan  know,  if  it  could  be  helped,  that  after 
persuading  him  to  steal  the  pearls  she  would  turn 
around  and  give  them  back  again. 

I  slept  well  that  night  and  went  to  the  office  the 
next  morning  with  a  light  heart.  John  was  coming 
in  at  eleven  to  go  with  me  to  take  out  a  prospective 
client.  But  at  ten,  as  I  was  busy  writing  in  the  pri 
vate  office,  the  door  burst  suddenly  open  and  in  came 
John.  His  face  was  pale  and  pasty  and  there  were 
heavy  puffs  under  his  eyes.  He  looked  like  a  man 
half-drunk,  and  for  that  matter  there  was  a  reek  of 
liquor  in  his  breath. 

"  You're  early,"  said  I,  wondering  what  had 
fetched  him  out  at  this  hour. 

John  closed  the  door,  then  lurched  into  a  chair, 
where  he  sat  staring  at  me  with  a  curious,  sodden 
look. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  I  asked. 

"  Matter  enough !  "  he  growled.  "  Edith's  pearls 
are  gone,  too !  " 


CHAPTER  VI 

"WILL    YOU    WALK    INTO    MY    PARLOUR?" 

MY  friend,  now  what  do  you  think  of  that?  Just 
before  John  came  into  my  office  I  doubt  if  there  was 
a  happier  man  in  Paris  than  I.  The  minute  after, 
I  don't  believe  there  was  a  more  miserable  one,  or  a 
madder.  For  quick  as  a  flash  I  guessed  at  what  had 
happened,  and  I  cursed  myself  for  a  fool  not  to  have 
thought  of  it  before. 

As  soon  as  I  could  speak  I  asked: 

"  When  did  you  find  this  out?  " 

"  This  morning,"  said  John,  in  a  dull  voice. 
"  Edith  opened  the  safe  to  get  some  money  and 
found  that  the  pearls  were  gone." 

"  Where  were  you  both  last  night?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  was  at  the  Automobile  Club  and  didn't  get 
in  until  late.  Edith  and  Mary  spent  the  evening 
in  the  studio  and  didn't  go  to  bed  until  about  mid 
night" 

"  Were  any  of  the  servants  about?  " 

"  No.  When  she  went  out  to  the  studio  after 
dinner  Edith  told  them  they  might  turn  in  as  soon  as 
they  had  finished  their  work." 

I  ripped  out  a  savage  curse.  It  was  as  plain  to 
me  as  a  pock-marked  Hottentot.  That  accursed 
Chu-Chu  had  gone  back  the  second  night  on  his  own 
account  and  opened  the  safe.  A  little  box  like 
that  would  be  a  nursery  puzzle  to  an  expert  like 
Chu-Chu.  No  doubt  he  considered  this  job  his  own 

94 


"WALK    INTO    MY    PARLOUR?"       95 

private  affair,  but  it  was  barely  possible  that  he  might 
have  turned  over  the  string  to  Ivan. 

I  thought  hard  for  a  moment,  then  said  to  John: 

"  This  is  certainly  rotten.  Here  I  have  gone  and 
got  Miss  Dalghren's  pearls,  and  now  you  come  and 
spring  it  on  me  that  Edith's  have  been  stolen." 

"  What?  "  cried  John,  rousing  up.  '  You've  got 
Mary's  pearls?  " 

"  Here  they  are,"  said  I,  and  threw  the  packet 
on  the  table.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  put  them  in  the 
safe  deposit  now,  and  tell  her  to  get  a  reconstructed 
string.  If  these  confounded  women  wouldn't  in 
sist  on  wearing  fortunes  on  their  bodies  the  prisons 
wouldn't  be  so  crowded."  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  I 
was  hot. 

John  sat  and  stared  at  the  packet  in  a  surly  sort 
of  way.  Then  he  picked  it  up,  dropped  it  into  his 
pocket,  and  gave  me  a  look  that  didn't  help  my 
temper  any. 

"  Well,"  says  he,  heavily,  "  since  you've  managed 
to  get  this  string,  no  doubt  you  may  be  able  to  find 
the  other." 

"  Oh,  you  think  so,  do  you?  "  said  I.  "  Well,  if 
you'd  been  there  to  see  how  easy  it  was  for  me  to  get 
the  first  string  you  might  not  find  it  such  a  cinch  to 
get  the  second." 

"How  is  that?"  he  asked.  "Don't  you  think 
that  they  were  probably  both  stolen  by  the  same  per 
son?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "I  do.  But  the  first  was 
stolen  more  for  spite  and  to  get  me  back  to  graft  than 
for  the  money  value.  But  this  second  job  looks 
more  like  theft  for  its  own  sake." 


96  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Just  the  same,"  growled  John,  "  it  isn't  the  mo 
tive  so  much  as  the  fact  that  counts.  If  you  were 
able  to  make  'em  choke  up  Mary's  pearls,  why  can't 
you  use  the  same  methods  to  get  back  Edith's?  " 

"  Oh,  because,"  I  answered,  wearily,  "  the  first 
was  an  official,  what  you  might  call  syndicate,  job. 
The  second  is  a  little  private  enterprise  on  the  part 
of  the  operator.  Or,  at  least,  it  looks  to  me  like 
that.  However,  I'll  do  my  best.  You'd  better  go 
back  to  the  house  and  give  Miss  Dalghren  her  pearls, 
and  tell  her  for  Heaven's  sake  to  put  'em  in  a  safe 
place.  It's  all  my  fault,  I  know.  I  should  have 
cleared  out,  like  I  wanted  to,  and  all  of  this  wouldn't 
have  happened." 

John  leaned  over  and  dropped  his  hand  on  my, 
knee. 

"  At  any  rate,  Frank,"  says  he,  "  you  know  that 
we  all  have  perfect  confidence  in  you,  old  chap." 

He  tried  to  make  his  voice  hearty,  but  somehow 
it  fell  flat. 

"  Thanks,"  said  I.  "  That's  not  what's  worrying 
me  just  now." 

;' What  is?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  I  answered. 

"  Look  here,  Frank,"  says  John.  "  Is  there  any 
actual  —  er,  risk  to  you  in  looking  for  these  pearls  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  a  bit,"  I  answered.  "  It's  just  like 
picking  daisies." 

John  looked  worried.  Says  he,  "  If  there's  any 
physical  danger  about  it  just  chuck  the  whole  thing. 
Edith  wouldn't  wish  it  and  neither  do  I.  Tell  me 
the  truth,  old  man." 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  don't  know,"  I  answered. 


"WALK    INTO   MY    PARLOUR?"       97 

"  If  Edith's  pearls  are  turned  in  at  headquarters  the 
chief  will  be  just  as  much  surprised  as  I  and  hand 
them  over  without  a  word.  He's  not  the  man  to  do 
things  by  halves.  But  if  the  thief  has  held  back 
the  pearls  the  chances  are  that  that's  the  last  we'll 
ever  see  of  them.  The  string  would  be  so  broken  up 
as  to  make  it  almost  impossible  to  trace.  Anyway, 
considering  what  you  have  done  in  getting  me  off, 
the  police  would  hardly  take  up  the  case.  Your 
friend  the  prefect  would  shrug  his  shoulders  and  ask 
what  the  deuce  you  expected." 

John's  face  cleared  a  little.  His  solicitude  for  my 
personal  safety  rather  touched  me. 

"  I'll  leave  it  all  to  you,  Frank,"  he  said,  "  but 
mind  you,  you're  not  to  run  any  physical  danger. 
It's  not  worth  it,  and  Edith  would  be  heart-broken 
if  you  were  to  come  to  any  harm.  So  would  I. 
Now  I'll  be  off.  Good  luck  to  you,  and  don't  do 
anything  rash.  You  can't  tell,  maybe  it's  some  en 
tirely  outside  person." 

He  got  up,  and,  giving  me  a  nod,  went  out. 
But  I  didn't  like  the  way  his  eyes  avoided  mine,  and 
I  wondered  if  perhaps,  deep  down,  he  might  not  be 
less  sure  of  me  than  he  was  willing  to  show. 

When  he  had  gone  I  sat  for  a  few  minutes  think 
ing  hard.  Then  I  opened  the  drawer  of  my  desk, 
took  out  an  automatic  pistol  that  I  kept  there,  loaded 
it  and  slipped  it  into  the  side  pocket  of  my  coat. 

"  Look  after  the  office  while  I  am  gone,"  I  said 
to  Gustave,  my  little  mecanicien,  and  went  out  and 
hopped  into  a  taxi  giving  Ivan's  address. 

Ivan  was  at  home,  and  as  I  was  shown  into  his 
bureau  he  looked  up  sharply.  I  didn't  waste  any 


98  THE    CLOSING    NET 

time  in  getting  to  the  point.  As  soon  as  the  door 
closed  I  said: 

"  Count,  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you  again,  but  there 
is  a  fresh  complication.  Mr.  Cuttynge  has  just  been 
to  the  office  with  the  pleasing  news  that  his  wife's 
pearls  have  been  stolen  also." 

Ivan's  face  was  not  pleasant  to  see. 

"  Indeed?  "  said  he,  "  what  are  the  particulars?  " 

"  Before  I  say  more,"  I  answered,  "  permit  me  to 
assure  you  that  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  but  that 
this  is  the  first  news  you  have  received  of  this  latter 
theft." 

Ivan  bowed  with  a  sort  of  satirical  smile  on  his 
thin  lips. 

'  Thank  you,"  said  he.  "  I  would  scarcely  have 
given  you  the  first  string  if  I  had  meant  to  keep  the 
other." 

I  told  him  what  I  had  just  learned  from  John. 
Ivan's  face  darkened. 

"  What  is  your  theory?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  suspect  Chu-Chu,"  said  I.  "  To  my  mind 
there  is  no  doubt  of  it.  I  think  that  he  went  back 
last  night  and  collared  Mrs.  Cuttynge's  pearls  while 
she  and  Miss  Dalghren  were  in  the  studio.  He 
knew  that  their  hands  were  tied.  No  doubt  he  con 
sidered  his  obligation  to  you  discharged  when  he 
handed  over  the  others." 

Ivan  frowned  and  shook  his  head.  "  No,"  said 
he;  "  Chu-Chu  is  one  of  my  regular  workers,  and 
not  at  liberty  to  do  anything  on  the  outside.  Or, 
at  least,  if  he  should  attempt  anything  on  his  own 
account,  he  is  bound  by  our  agreement  to  turn  the 
proceeds  in  to  me.  Only  in  this  case  his  percentage 


ROSALIE   CAUGHT    MY    DRIFT    AND   BEGAN    TO 
GESTICULATE    (page    199) 


"WALK    INTO    MY    PARLOUR?"       99 

is  doubled.  In  return  for  this  he  has  the  protection 
of  our  circle,  and  when  times  are  bad  he  can  always 
draw  money  for  personal  expenses." 

I  had  heard  of  this  sort  of  thing,  although  an  in 
dependent  man  myself. 

Ivan  glanced  at  the  clock.  "  If  Chu-Chu  got  the 
pearls,"  said  he,  "  I  may  look  for  him  before  noon. 
It  is  now  half  after  ten.  Do  you  care  to  wait?  " 

"  Suppose  he  does  bring  them?  "  I  asked. 

Ivan  made  an  impatient  gesture  with  his  hand. 
"  It  is  all  of  the  same  piece,"  he  snapped.  "  On 
your  account,  that  house  is  exempt  from  our  affairs. 
If  Chu-Chu  has  stolen  those  pearls  he  has  disobeyed 
orders,  and  in  that  case  he  may  take  his  choice  be 
tween  handing  over  the  pearls  to  you  or  severing  all 
connection  with  me.  He  will  probably  prefer  the 
former.  My  organisation  is  worth  more  to  him 
than  even  so  valuable  a  necklace  of  pearls.  But  if 
by  any  chance  he  should  decide  on  the  latter,  then, 
my  dear  Mr.  Clamart,  you  will  have  to  arrange  mat 
ters  with  Chu-Chu.  I  am  not  given  to  half-meas 
ures,  and  having  decided  on  my  course  of  action  I 
will  carry  it  out.  But  there  is  a  limit  to  my  author 
ity.  If  you  care  to  wait  I  will  show  you  into  the 
library,  and  if  Chu-Chu  comes  here  you  may  talk  to 
him  yourself.  He  is  coming  this  morning  as  I  have 
some  other  matters  to  discuss  with  him." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I;  "  then  I'll  wait." 

Ivan  showed  me  into  a  small  but  handsomely  fur 
nished  room,  the  walls  lined  with  bookshelves  which 
were  filled  with  volumes.  I  selected  a  work  on 
modern  sculpture  and  sank  into  a  big  leather-covered 
chair. 


ioo  THE    CLOSING    NET 

But  I  did  not  read.  What  Ivan  had  just  said 
left  me  with  plenty  of  intellectual  food.  It  was 
possible,  I  thought,  that  he  might  suspect  me  of  hav 
ing  other  ammunition  in  my  magazine  than  a  mere 
appeal  to  his  sense  of  fair-dealing,  and  it  occurred  to 
me  that  if  this  suspicion  bordered  on  the  conviction 
that  I  might  threaten  to  expose  the  gang,  the  odds 
were  against  my  getting  out  of  his  house  alive. 

This  danger  was  one  that  would  be  increased  a 
thousand  times  by  the  arrival  of  Chu-Chu.  Chu- 
Chu  le  Tondeur,  or  M.  de  Maxeville,  as  he  called 
himself,  was  known  to  the  Under-World  as  being 
the  ablest  thief  in  Europe.  His  specialty  was  bank 
work,  usually  in  the  provinces,  and  his  safe  opening 
skill  was  something  marvellous.  The  most  intricate 
combinations  in  his  sensitive  fingers  were  about  as 
difficult  as  a  game  of  diabolo.  Personally,  I  de 
tested  everything  about  the  man.  He  was  a  con 
stitutional  assassin.  Chu-Chu,  the  odds  being  even, 
would  rather  kill  than  not.  His  favourite  weapon 
was  the  slung-shot,  but  he  was  said  to  be  a  man  of 
terrific  strength  and  not  long  before  had  killed  an 
agent  by  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  coup  de  poing 
Americain,  as  they  call  brass  knuckles  in  France, 
where,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  ten  times  as  much 
in  use  as  at  home.  Chu-Chu  left  a  trail  of  blood 
behind  him  wherever  he  worked.  The  man  had  the 
ingenuity  of  a  Yankee,  the  cold  courage  of  an  Anglo- 
Saxon,  the  stealth  of  a  Frenchman,  and  the  remorse- 
lessness  of  a  Spaniard.  I  doubt  if  there  lived  a  more 
dangerous  enemy  to  Society.  He  was  a  well-edu 
cated  man,  handsome,  polished,  a  brilliant  conver 
sationalist,  absolutely  abstemious  in  his  habits.  His 


"WALK    INTO    MY    PARLOUR?"     101 

reputation  with  his  pals  was  bad,  however,  and  not 
many  thieves  cared  to  work  with  him. 

From  what  Ivan  had  told  me,  I  doubted  that  he 
trusted  Chu-Chu.  But  Chu-Chu  was  too  valuable 
to  lose,  if  it  could  be  helped,  and  too  dangerous  to 
quarrel  with.  I  did  not  give  Ivan  himself  the  credit 
for  a  high-grade  physical  pluck.  No  doubt  he  was 
dangerous  enough  in  his  way,  but  it  would  not  be  his 
own  hand  that  struck. 

As  the  case  stood,  Ivan  had  played  his  game 
cleverly.  Whether  he  suspected  me  of  daring  to  lay 
evidence  with  the  police  or  not,  he  had  avoided 
bringing  things  to  a  crisis  by  giving  me  Miss  Dal- 
jghren's  pearls  on  my  simple  protest.  But  in  dis 
claiming  all  knowledge  of  the  theft  of  Edith's  pearls 
and  promising  to  restore  them  if  possible,  he  had 
passed  the  affair  up  to  Chu-Chu.  I  felt  sure  that 
Chu-Chu  would  deny  all  knowledge  of  the  matter  and 
that  Ivan  would,  also.  But  I  felt  equally  sure  that 
the  pearls  were  at  that  very  moment  in  Chu-Chu's 
possession.  In  this  case,  he  had  flatly  disobeyed  the 
orders  of  the  Chief. 

Now,  if  Ivan  were  to  say  nothing  about  my  having 
charged  Chu-Chu  with  the  job,  but  waited  for  Chu- 
Chu  to  bring  up  the  subject  himself,  I  felt  pretty  sure 
that  he  would  have  to  wait  a  long  time.  If,  on  the 
contrary,  he  brought  up  the  subject  at  once,  Chu- 
Chu  might  either  deny  everything  or  else  admit  hav 
ing  stolen  the  pearls  and  hand  them  over.  Ivan 
had  no  wish  to  quarrel  with  Chu-Chu.  He  might 
want  to  break  with  him,  but  he  would  prefer  to  do 
this  peacefully.  If  he  were  to  get  the  pearls  I 
thought  it  very  possible  that  he  would  deny  the  fact 


102  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  me  just  the  same,  rather  than  risk  an  open  quarrel 
with  Chu-Chu.  Then,  feeling  that  I  might  take  the 
matter  to  the  prefect  of  police,  it  was  very  possible 
that  he  would  feel  himself  unfortunately  compelled 
to  put  me  out  of  permanent  action.  And  I  knew 
that  in  this  he  would  find  an  enthusiastic  ally  in  Chu- 
Chu. 

Therefore,  as  the  thing  framed  up,  it  appeared 
that  I  stood  no  chance  of  getting  the  pearls,  whether 
Chu-Chu  owned  up  or  not,  but  I  did  stand  a  good 
chance  of  losing  my  life.  Then  why  didn't  I  get 
out  of  the  house  while  there  was  still  time?  For 
the  simple  reason  that  I  had  gone  there  after  the 
pearls,  and  I  meant  to  have  them. 

Now,  it  may  not  look  so  at  first  glance,  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  the  odds  were  a  bit  with  me.  How? 
It's  easy  enough.  Ivan  might  know  what  Chu-Chu 
would  do  and  Chu-Chu  might  know  what  Ivan  would 
do,  and  I  had  a  darn  good  idea  of  what  both  of  them 
would  do.  But  neither  of  them  knew  what  /  was 
going  to  do,  and  /  did.  It  would  never  have  oc 
curred  to  their  European  minds.  Your  American 
crook  would  have  thought  of  it  first  jump;  not  that 
he's  keener,  but  because  my  plan  was  the  American 
plan.  This  was  merely  to  hold  them  both  up  before 
they  had  a  chance  to  guess  at  what  was  coming. 

Perhaps  that  sounds  too  easy  to  you,  because  you 
are  American  yourself.  But  let  me  explain.  Every 
race  has  its  own  method  of  violence.  The  Oriental 
loves  poison  and  slaves  behind  arras  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing  in  settling  misunderstandings.  The  Teu 
ton  likes  a  duel,  the  Latin  races  a  knife  or  stiletto  — 
all  good  enough  in  their  way  and  plenty  efficient,  but 


"WALK    INTO   MY    PARLOUR?"     103 

all,  if  you  observe,  requiring  time.  Whether  to 
gloat  or  to  sneer  or  to  think  it  over,  all  of  these  older 
races  want  a  little  time  before  killing.  And  that  is 
exactly  what  your  Anglo-Saxon  hates.  He  is  apt 
to  kill  right  off  the  bat  or  let  it  go.  A  word,  a  blow, 
bang  —  and  there  you  are. 

The  difference  is  that  Europeans  and  Orientals, 
while  they  like  the  killing  well  enough,  dislike  the 
violence.  They  shrink  from  the  rough  word,  the 
crudeness  of  the  caveman.  They  want  art,  and  for 
that  reason  a  sudden  outburst  on  the  part  of  the 
Westerner  always  comes  to  the  Easterner  with  a  sort 
of  shock  of  surprise.  In  that  atmosphere  of  luxury 
and  refinement  I  could  feel  it  myself.  Sitting  there 
in  Ivan's  handsome  library  and  looking  at  his  fine 
old  vellum  and  Louis  XVI  chairs  and  Bokhara  rugs 
it  seemed  like  a  hideously  rough  and  impolite  play 
on  my  part  to  walk  into  the  next  room  and  stick  up 
those  two  cultured  and  refined  gentlemen,  the  one 
titled  and  the  other  decorated.  But  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  do  it,  just  the  same;  yes,  and  to  turn  that 
Empire-furnished  bureau  de  travail  into  an  Arizona 
bar-room  shambles  at  the  first  shady  move,  adding 
the  maitre  d'  hotel  to  the  bull-pit  and  any  other  loose 
jokers  that  saw  fit  to  bulge  in.  It  really  was  simple 
enough.  I  can  shoot  quick  and  straight  and  I  had 
nothing  much  to  fear  from  the  result.  When  it 
came  to  a  show  down  my  friend  the  prefect  would  be 
only  too  glad  that  I'd  taken  the  job  off  his  hands. 
Chu-Chu's  working  name  was  known  all  over  France, 
and  his  performances  hadn't  added  a  whole  lot  of 
lustre  to  the  records  of  the  Police  Department.  Be 
sides,  European  thugs  have  a  way  of  following  up 


io4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

old  scores  owed  by  their  deceased  members,  especially 
with  the  minions  of  the  law. 

So  I  sat  there,  all  taut  and  drawing,  and  before 
long  I  heard  the  front  door  open  and  a  bass  voice 
that  I  recognised  as  M.  de  Maxeville's.  He  went 
straight  up  to  Ivan's  office,  and  for  an  hour  I  heard 
the  low  rumble  of  conversation. 

Then,  as  I  waited,  there  came  the  sound  of  Ivan's 
quick,  nervous  step  in  the  corridor  outside.  I  got  up 
out  of  the  big  chair  and  stood,  slipping  my  left  hand 
into  the  pocket  of  my  coat.  I'm  just  as  accurate  with 
the  left,  and  it  leaves  the  right  to  shake  hands  with. 

"  Chu  —  M.  de  Maxeville  is  here,"  said  Ivan. 
"  He  denies  all  knowledge  of  Mrs.  Cuttynge's 
pearls.  In  fact,  he  has  managed  to  convince  me  that 
he  is  telling  the  truth.  As  it  is,  he  is  very  angry  be 
cause  I  gave  back  the  other  string  to  you.  I  have 
told  him  that  you  are  here  and  he  insists  that  you 
come  in  and  make  your  charges  yourself.  Do  you 
care  to  do  so?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you." 

'  Then  come,"  said  Ivan,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
office. 


CHAPTER  VII 

AMERICAN   METHODS 

CHU-CHU  LE  TONDEUR,  alias  M.  de  Maxeville,  was 
a  distinguished-looking  man  of  medium  height,  but 
very  broad  and  compactly  made.  In  his  long  black 
redingote  and  narrow  French  trousers  one  would 
never  have  guessed  the  heavy  bone  and  muscle  under 
neath.  His  face,  though  scarcely  to  be  called  hand 
some,  was  intelligent,  and,  in  a  way,  attractive,  being 
forceful  and  wearing  an  habitually  pleasant  expres 
sion.  Indeed,  one  of  his  nicknames  was  "  I'homme 
qui  sourit."  Chu-Chu  was  usually  smiling.  He 
went  about  the  streets  with  the  hint  of  a  smile  on  his 
face.  He  may  have  trained  himself  to  wear 
this  pleased  expression,  which  is,  after  all,  a  fairly 
good  mask.  One  hardly  looks  for  a  recent 
murderer  going  about  with  a  pleasant  smile  on  his 
lips. 

Chu-Chu's  forehead  was  very  broad  and  high,  his 
eyes  small,  of  a  curious  slaty  brown  and  set  well 
apart;  he  had  a  long  nose  and  a  black  moustache  and 
imperial.  His  jaws,  very  prominent  at  the  angles, 
and  the  heavy  cheekbones  suggested  a  Spanish  strain. 
His  hands  were  beautifully  shaped  and  usually  rest 
less. 

Chu-Chu  dressed  with  the  quiet  elegance  which 
might  be  expected  of  a  senator,  and  when  he  spoke 
his  bass  voice  was  slow,  quiet  and  pleasingly  modu 
lated.  He  had  a  curious,  precise  way  of  dragging 

105 


io6  THE    CLOSING    NET 

out  the  ends  of  his  words,  adding  almost  a  whole 
syllable  to  consonant  endings,  and  this  gave  his  con 
versation  a  hint  of  pedantry.  He  had  told  me  at 
Leontine's  dinner-party  that  his  favourite  recreation 
was  big-game  hunting,  and  that  he  had  once,  while  in 
the  Nguru  country,  taken  part  in  a  Masai  lion  hunt. 
You  know  the  sport.  The  natives,  armed  with 
shield  and  spear  surround  the  lion  and  then  close  in 
on  him  in  a  small  circle;  when  he.  springs  the  hunter 
receives  him  on  his  assegai. 

Such  a  man  was  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur.  As  I  en 
tered  the  room  he  bowed;  I  did  the  same.  Ivan 
offered  me  a  chair,  then  seated  himself  behind  his 
desk. 

Chu-Chu  opened  the  conversation  by  compliment 
ing  me  upon  my  escape,  then  expressed  his  regret 
that  so  accomplished  a  colleague  should  quit  the  pro 
fessional  field,  hinting  at  the  same  time  that  I  would 
probably  return  to  it  when  tired  of  the  banality  of 
legitimate  business.  He  spoke  in  fairly  good  Eng 
lish,  but  with  the  effort  of  one  who  has  learned -a 
language  by  study  and  translates  from  his  own 
tongue. 

"  M.  le  Comte  tells  me,"  he  said,  presently,  "  that 
you  are  not  content  with  our  little  affair  of  the  night 
before  last." 

"  To  be  frank,"  I  answered,  "  it  impressed  me  as 
a  poor  return  for  my  own  behaviour  on  the  occasion 
when  we  last  met." 

Chu-Chu  shrugged.  "  We  are  criminals,"  says 
he,  "  and  business  is  business,  as  they  say  in  your 
country.  Besides,  my  dear  Mr.  Clamart,  once  a  man 
has  given  up  his  profession  he  can  hardly  expect  to 


AMERICAN    METHODS  107 

receive  professional  courtesies  from  his  former  col 
leagues." 

'  There  is  a  difference,"  I  answered,  "  between, 
professional  courtesy  and  appreciation  for  a  service 
rendered.  However,  that  incident  is  closed.  What 
I  am  now  protesting  against  is  the  stealing  of  the 
string  of  pearls  belonging  to  Madame  Cuttynge." 

Chu-Chu's  slaty  eyes  hardened. 
'  That  is  a  matter,"  said  he,  "  of  which  I  have 
just  heard  for  the  first  time.  Whatever  my  views  in 
regard  to  yourself,  Mr.  Clamart,  I  should  never 
think  of  breaking  my  faith  with  our  respected  Chief.'* 
He  bowed  to  Ivan. 

;'  Far  be  it  from  me,"  I  answered,  "  to  accuse  M. 
de  Maxeville  of  any  such  intention  as  that.  When 
it  reaches  a  point  where  those  of  us  who  are  outside 
the  law  can  no  longer  trust  one  another,  a  man  might 
better  retire  from  the  field." 

"  Precisely  my  own  idea,"  said  Chu-Chu.  "  Of 
course,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  Mr.  Clamart, 
the  situation  is  very  different.  One  would  never 
think  of  playing  pranks  upon  a  colleague.  But,  as 
I  see  it,  the  minute  you  gave  up  your  profession  you 
lost  the  right  to  expect  or  demand  any  other  treat 
ment  than  that  of  an  outsider.  As  for  the  service 
which  you  claim  to  have  rendered  us  in  grappling 
with  the  agent,  I,  for  my  part,  fail  to  acknowledge 
any  obligation  —  unless  it  be  on  the  part  of  the 
agent,  whose  life  you  assuredly  saved.  If  you  had 
not  grappled  with  him  I  would  have  killed  him  my 
self."  His  slaty  eyes  rested  on  mine  with  a  cold 
glitter.  "  I  think,"  said  he,  "  that  our  Chief  is  in 
clined  to  over-value  your  performance.  Personally, 


IDS  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Mr.  Clamart,  at  the  present  moment  or  later,  I  would 
not  feel  the  slightest  compunction  at  robbing  you, 
yourself.  I  marvel  at  your  effrontery  in  coming  here 
to  demand  those  pearls  from  the  Chief,  and  I  marvel 
still  more  at  his  so  far  yielding  to  an  unwarranted 
sentiment  as  to  give  them  up.  If  anybody  has  been 
wronged  it  seems  to  me  that  I  am  that  person.  As 
for  the  other  pearls,  I  very  deeply  regret  that  some 
body  else  should  have  got  them.  I  had  hoped  to  do 
that  job  myself." 

I  glanced  at  Ivan.  His  face  was  pale  and  his  eyes 
lurid.  It  flashed  across  my  mind  that  Chu-Chu 
might  have  found  some  difficulty  in  obtaining  his  con 
sent  to  my  murder,  and  that  for  the  purpose  of  prov 
ing  that  I  was  a  serious  danger  to  the  band,  Chu- 
Chu  was  now  deliberately  trying  to  anger  me  and 
make  me  show  my  hand.  He  was  trying  to  tempt 
me  to  a  threat.  He  wanted  to  make  me  say  that  if 
all  ties  between  us  were  broken  I  would  consider  my 
self  free  to  use  offensive  action.  He  saw  the  disbe 
lief  in  my  face  and  knew  that  I  was  convinced  in  my 
own  mind  that  he  had  stolen  Edith's  pearls  and  that 
they  were  at  that  moment  either  in  his  or  Ivan's  pos 
session.  Once  I  made  such  a  threat  the  end  would 
come  quickly.  That  was  to  be  the  signal  for  my 
death.  It  was  possible  that  Ivan  had  refused  to  be 
lieve  that  I  would  do  this,  and  failing  to  get  any 
satisfaction,  would  let  the  matter  drop.  Ivan  did 
not  want  my  life,  if  it  could  be  avoided,  but  if  it  came 
to  a  choice  between  that  and  exposure,  he  would  no 
doubt  act  with  deadly  suddenness.  He  was  sitting, 
as  I  have  said,  behind  his  desk,  and  the  lower  half 
of  his  body  was  hid  from  me.  I  had  but  little  doubt 


AMERICAN    METHODS  109 

but  that  there  was  a  pistol  in  one  of  the  hands  rest 
ing  in  his  lap,  and  as  this  crossed  my  mind  I  heard 
a  rustle  on  the  other  side  of  the  closed  door. 

My  left  thumb  was  hooked  carelessly  in  the  side 
pocket  of  my  coat,  and  I  doubted  that  I  could  get 
my  weapon  and  shoot  as  quickly  as  could  Ivan. 
Also,  there  was  probably  an  armed  servant  behind 
the  door.  The  odds  were  too  heavy.  In  order  to 
carry  out  my  plan  I  would  have  to  get  Ivan  out 
from  behind  his  desk  and  without  arousing  his  sus 
picion. 

All  of  this  went  through  my  head  in  a  flash.  I 
leaned  back  in  my  chair  with  a  troubled  face.  Then, 
turning  to  Ivan,  I  said: 

"  One  cannot  deny  the  truth  of  M.  de  Maxeville's 
remarks.  Of  course,  I  am  deeply  disappointed. 
My  only  hope  now  is  that  after  hearing  what  M.  de 
Maxeville  has  said,  you  do  not  regret  your  gener 
osity  in  giving  back  Miss  Dalghren's  pearls.  Not 
one  man  in  a  thousand  would  have  done  it  and  you 
may  be  sure  that  I  appreciate  the  act  and  feel  very 
deeply  grateful.  M.  de  Maxeville  has  presented, 
the  matter  in  quite  a  different  light.  If  I  had  seen 
it  in  that  way  myself  I  would  hardly  have  had  the 
cheek  to  come  here  with  the  request.  It  is  the  first 
time  .that  I  have  ever  asked  a  favour  of  anybody. 
As  for  this  other  string  of  pearls,  there  seems  to  be 
no  remedy.  Owing  to  my  peculiar  position  the  Cut- 
tynges  cannot,  of  course,  take  the  matter  to  the 
police.  One  can  never  tell;  it  is  even  possible  that 
Cuttynge  himself  might  have  stolen  his  own  wife's 
jewels.  Such  things  have  happened.  I  know  that 
he  has  been  playing  baccarat  and  has  had  some 


no  THE    CLOSING    NET 

heavy  losses,  and  it  is  possible  that  he  might  have 
been  tempted  to  the  act,  knowing  that  the  blame  will 
be  placed  with  my  ex-associates." 

"  Or  with  yourself,"  growled  Chu-Chu. 

"  Possibly,"  I  muttered,  looking  dejectedly  at  the 
floor. 

I  glanced  up  in  time  to  intercept  a  swift  look 
which  flashed  between  Chu-Chu  and  Ivan.  Chu- 
Chu,  I  guessed,  was  furious  at  being  balked  of  his 
prey,  while  Ivan  was  obviously  relieved.  The 
colour  was  coming  back  into  his  cheeks. 

"  As  far  as  the  first  string  is  concerned,  Mr.  Cla- 
Tnart,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  regret  my  act,  in  spite  of 
M.  de  Maxeville's  views  on  the  matter.  I  feel  that 
there  was  an  obligation  between  us,  and  my  act  in 
returning  the  pearls  showed  my  good  faith.  It  was 
all  Leontine's  idea.  As  I  told  you,  and  as  M.  de 
Maxeville  will  tell  you,  I  was  opposed  to  it  from  the 
start.  As  to  Mrs.  Cuttynge's  pearls,  I  am  of  pre 
cisely  the  same  mind,  and  I  give  you  my  word  that 
if  I  learn  anything  about  the  robbery  I  will  do  what 
I  can  to  assist  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  said.  "  That  is  more  than  I 
could  reasonably  ask.  And  now,  all  I  can  do  is  to 
thank  you  both  for  your  courtesy  and  apologise  for 
having  taken  so  much  of  your  time." 

I  got  up,  slowly.  Ivan's  hand  went  to  the  drawer 
of  the  desk,  and  I  guessed  that  he  was  slipping  back 
his  weapon.  He  touched  a  bell,  and  again  I  heard 
a  rustle  outside  the  door  and  guessed  that  the  armed 
servant  was  going  down  to  show  me  out.  Ivan 
stepped  out  from  behind  his  desk. 

Chu-Chu  also  had  risen  and  was  standing  across 


AMERICAN    METHODS  in 

the  room  with  an  ugly  look  on  his  face,  tugging  at 
his  imperial.  The  two  of  them  were  nicely  in  line. 
I  stepped  back  behind  my  chair,  then,  with  a  quick 
movement,  I  slipped  my  hand  into  my  side  pocket 
and  threw  up  the  deadly,  automatic  arm. 

"  Hands  up,  both  of  you,  and  quick,"  I  snarled. 

My  friend,  it  was  worth  the  risk  to  see  their  faces. 
Of  course,  I  wasn't  studying  dramatic  effects  at  the 
time,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  almost  on  the 
point  of  killing  them  both  before  they  had  recovered 
from  the  shock  enough  to  obey.  Then  up  went 
Ivan's  hands  and  he  lurched  back  against  his  desk, 
actually  pushed,  as  it  seemed  by  the  murderous  force 
projected  out  of  me.  Chu-Chu  felt  it,  too,  for  al 
though  he  was  frozen  into  stone  for  an  instant  his 
arms  went  up  stiffly  as  his  eyes  met  mine. 

"  Not  a  sound,"  I  growled.  "  Not  a  motion,  or 
you're  both  dead  men." 

For  an  instant  we  stood  so.     Then  I  said  to  Ivan: 

"  Back  over  there  by  Chu-Chu.  One  shifty  move 
from  either  and  you  stop  a  soft-nosed  bullet.  Back 
against  the  wall  —  both  of  you." 

Chu-Chu  was  gurgling  like  a  trapped  bear  and  the 
veins  stood  out  on  his  forehead.  For  the  moment 
I  doubted  that  he'd  stand  and  was  tempted  to  kill 
them  both.  Then  Ivan  laughed. 

"  Check,"  said  he. 

"  Shut  up !  "  I  snarled.  "  Not  a  sound  if  you 
love  your  life." 

Both  felt,  I  think,  that  for  all  their  past  interest 
ing  lives  of  crime  neither  had  been  quite  so  near  the 
ragged  edge.  Ivan's  face  was  white  but  calm,  but 
Chu-Chu's  was  terrible. 


ii2  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Now  then,  M.  de  Comte,"  said  I,  "  my  opinion 
is  that  Chu-Chu  is  lying  to  us  both.  Turn  out  his 
pockets." 

Chu-Chu's  body  shuddered.      I  took  a  step  closer. 

'  Remember,  you  brute,"  said  I,  "  I'd  rather  kill 
you  than  not.  The  only  reason  that  I  don't  is  be 
cause  I  believe  Ivan  to  be  playing  fair  and  I  owe  him 
something  for  those  pearls.  But  as  for  you,  M.  de 
Tondeur,  there's  a  score  to  settle  for  those  shoes 
and  the  handkerchief  and  the  cigarette.  Stand  fast, 
or  by  G—  -  I'll  rip  your  heart  out."  I  looked  at 
Ivan.  "  Turn  out  his  pockets,"  I  said. 

Ivan  obeyed.  First  came  a  wallet,  then  some 
change.  Ivan  laid  both  on  the  corner  of  the  desk. 
Then  gloves,  a  handkerchief,  a  gold  pencil  and  pen 
knife  to  match,  and  a  few  ordinary  objects  of  the 
sort  that  a  man  carries.  I  began  to  think  that  the 
pearls  were  in  Ivan's  desk.  Then,  as  Ivan  turned 
inside  out  a  hip  pocket  there  dropped  on  the  rug  a 
little  package  of  tissue-paper.  It  landed  solidly. 
A  snarl  was  wrenched  from  Chu-Chu. 

"  Silence !  "  I  whispered,  glad  that  we  spoke  in 
English,  for  it  was  possible  that  a  servant  was  listen 
ing  outside.  "  Pick  that  package  up  and  open  it,"  I 
said  to  Ivan. 

He  did  so,  then  his  jaw  dropped  and  his  eyes 
opened  wide.  There  was  no  doubt  of  his  amaze 
ment. 

"  Give  it  here,"  I  said,  and  stepped  forward,  hold 
ing  out  my  hand,  the  gun  muzzle  almost  against  his 
body.  His  eyes  met  mine  with  a  curious  expression 
as  he  dropped  into  my  outstretched  hand  three  great 
gems. 


AMERICAN    METHODS  113 

My  friend,  they  might  have  killed  me  at  that 
moment  had  they  guessed  their  chance.  There  were 
two  great  rubies  and  an  emerald.  Never  have  I 
seen  their  like. 

I  scarcely  looked  at  them  and  dropped  them  into 
my  pocket. 

"  So,"  said  I,  "  and  here  is  a  little  surprise.  Unde 
clared  contraband,  is  it  not,  M.  de  Comte?  " 

Ivan  nodded.     His  face  had  gone  hard  as  stone. 

"  We  will  confiscate  it  as  security  against  the 
pearls,"  said  I.  '  These  stones  are  easily  worth 
twice  their  value.  It  is  no  loss  to  you,  M.  de  Comte, 
as  except  for  me  you  never  would  have  known  of 
them.  Now  listen  to  me,  both  of  you.  I  have  said 
that  I  was  through  with  theft  and  I  mean  it.  I 
don't  know  where  these  gems  came  from  and  I  care 
less,  but  I  am  going  to  keep  them  as  security  until 
you  hand  over  the  pearls.  When  you  do  that  you 
can  have  the  stones.  I  am  no  longer  a  thief,  but 
neither  am  I  a  member  of  the  police.  Permit  me  to 
restore  to  M.  de  Tondeur  his  other  effects.  Leave 
them  on  the  desk.  The  search  has  gone  far 
enough."  I  looked  at  Ivan.  "  I  consider  that  I 
have  done  you  a  service,  monsieur,"  said  I. 

His  eyes  narrowed  but  he  did  not  answer. 

The  search  had  disclosed  the  fact  that  Chu-Chu 
was  unarmed.  He  had  not  even  a  knife.  Keeping 
them  both  covered  I  walked  to  Ivan's  desk,  where  in 
a  half-opened  drawer  I  found,  as  I  had  expected,  a 
pistol  similar  to  my  own. 

"  A  mere  precaution  against  my  retreat,"  I  said, 
and  took  it  out  and  slipped  it  into  my  pocket. 
"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  will  wish  you  a  good  morning. 


ii4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Needless  to  say  I  am  delighted  at  the  way  in  which 
things  have  turned  out,  for  everything  goes  to  con 
firm  my  confidence  in  the  fair-dealing  of  M.  le 
Comte,  if  not  in  that  of  M.  Chu-Chu.  Since  the 
latter  has  held  back  these  stones,  there  is  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  he  has  not  done  the  same  with  the 
pearls.  As  soon  as  the  latter  are  restored  to  me  I 
will  give  up  the  gems." 

Ivan  had  recovered  his  sang  froid,  but  Chu-Chu's 
face  was  purple  and  blotchy  and  his  lips  were  blue. 
He  looked  very  sick.  There  is  not  the  slightest 
doubt  in  my  mind  that  if  he  had  possessed  a  weapon 
of  any  kind  he  would  have  sprung  at  me  and  taken 
the  chance  of  my  bullet,  in  which  case  he  would  cer 
tainly  have  got  himself  killed,  and  probably  Ivan 
also.  For  I  was  by  no  means  sure  that  the  pearls 
were  not  at  that  very  moment  in  Ivan's  desk.  Then 
why  did  I  not  go  through  it?  For  two  reasons. 
In  the  first  place  there  was  no  need.  Since  I  had 
the  stones  I  felt  sure  of  getting  the  pearls.  In  the 
second  place  I  did  not  want  to  antagonise  Ivan  more 
than  was  necessary.  This  may  sound  foolish,  after 
having  held  him  up  as  I  had  done,  but  he  would 
realise  that  this  was  forced  on  me  in  order  to  search 
Chu-Chu.  Of  the  two  Ivan  would  be  the  more 
dangerous  enemy,  having  all  manner  of  sub-workers. 
As  things  stood  it  seemed  likely  enough  that  he  would 
leave  Chu-Chu  and  myself  to  settle  our  affair  be 
tween  us. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  I'm  going.  Rush  out  after  me 
if  you  think  it  would  be  healthy.  If  you  call  down 
to  your  servants  I'll  kill  any  man  that  raises  a  hand. 
Gun  play  of  this  sort  is  my  long  suit.  But  if  you're 


AMERICAN    METHODS  115 

wise  you  won't  try  to  stop  me.  Good  morning." 
I  backed  to  the  door,  opened  it  and  slipped  out, 
slamming  it  shut  behind  me.  Nobody  was  in  the 
hall.  Down  the  stairs  I  went,  the  pistol  in  my  fist, 
hid  by  my  Derby  hat.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  I 
met  the  maitre  d'hotel.  He  opened  the  door  to  let 
me  out  with  a  polite  "bon  jour,  M'sieu'." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

HAWK   AND    RAVEN 

LET  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  as  I  walked  away 
from  Ivan's  house  I  was  not  singing  paeans  of  praise. 
I  had  got  more  than  twice  the  value  of  what  I  went 
after,  it  is  true,  but  I  had  also  got  something  else, 
and  that  was  the  undying  enmity  of  the  most  danger 
ous  criminal  in  Europe. 

As  long  as  Chu-Chu  was  alive  my  own  life  was 
worth  about  two  sous.  From  the  moment  that  I 
left  Ivan's  house  Chu-Chu's  immediate  and  pressing 
business  would  be  to  settle  his  account  with  me.  I 
had  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  so  far  as  his  private 
affairs  were  concerned  everything  would  have  to 
wait  while  he  gave  himself  to  a  sincere  and  painstak 
ing  stalk  of  myself.  I  had  not  only  deprived  him 
of  a  fortune  but  I  had  disgraced  and  ruined  him  with 
Ivan.  In  fact,  I  was  not  at  all  sure  but  that  he 
might  kill  Ivan  with  his  naked  hands  before  leaving 
the  house,  merely  because  the  Pole  had  witnessed 
his  humiliation.  Thinking  it  over,  I  was  sorry  that 
I  had  not  left  Ivan  his  pistol,  as  in  that  case  he  might 
have  disposed  of  Chu-Chu  on  his  own  account.  You 
see,  Chu-Chu's  quarrel  with  an  outsider  was  a  men 
ace  to  the  whole  mob,  as  many  men  in  my  position 
would  have  gone  straight  to  the  prefect  of  police  and 
furnished  information  which  might  have  led  to  the 
capture  of  Monsieur  de  Maxeville. 

Why  didn't  I  do  that  very  thing?  It  is  a  little 
116 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  117 

hard  to  explain.  In  the  first  place,  anybody  who 
has  been  for  years  a  criminal  hates  the  thought  of 
being  mixed  up  with  the  police.  There  are  too 
many  old  crimes  that  may  be  brought  to  light. 
Then,  my  release  from  the  clutch  of  the  law  was  ir 
regular;  an  unofficial  pardon  that  would  hardly  bear 
the  scrutiny  of  the  public.  Still  again,  I  did  not  see 
how  I  could  impeach  Chu-Chu  without  implicating 
Ivan  and  his  crowd,  and  I  felt  that  if  I  was  once 
marked  for  the  hereafter  by  that  perfect  organisa 
tion  I  might  just  as  well  go  down  and  hop  off  a 
tbridge  into  the  Seine.  But  last  of  all,  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  that  the  best  —  in  fact,  the  only  thing 
for  me  to  do  —  was  to  turn  all  of  my  talent  to  kill 
ing  Chu-Chu  before  Chu-Chu  killed  me.  I  would 
have  killed  him  in  Ivan's  house  if  I  had  felt  that  it 
was  possible  to  do  so  without  a  general  rumpus.  As 
it  was,  at  the  first  shot  the  servants  would  have  come 
running  in,  armed,  no  doubt,  for  Ivan's  servants 
were  all  members  of  the  gang.  He  had  told  me  on 
the  night  of  Leontine's  dinner  that  his  entire  house 
hold  belonged  to  his  mob. 

No,  it  was  better  as  it  was,  dangerous  as  my  posi 
tion  might  be.  As  things  now  stood  I  felt  pretty 
sure  that  I  had  only  Chu-Chu  to  reckon  with.  Ivan 
would  sit  tight  and  offer  up  prayers  that  each  of  us 
might  kill  the  other.  His  work  was  merely  execu 
tive,  and  he  detested  violence  as  much  as  might  the 
big  trust  magnate  who  sits  cool  and  respectable  in 
his  office  and  robs  from  the  masses.  Only  Ivan  was 
on  rather  a  higher  plane,  as  he  confined  himself  to  re 
lieving  the  too-rich  of  their  plethora  of  wealth. 

If  I  had  still  been  an  active  member  of  the  Under- 


n8  THE    CLOSING    NET 

World  this  feud  with  Chu-Chu  would  not  have  both 
ered  me  a  scrap.  Although  I  had  always  managed 
to  keep  on  good  terms  with,  my  colleagues,  such 
blood-quarrels  had  come  under  my  observation  sev 
eral  times,  and  in  most  cases  they  had  reached  their 
issue  quietly  and  without  "  scandal,"  as  one  might  say. 
Chu-Chu  and  I  turned  loose  in  Paris  on  the  warpath 
for  each  other's  scalps  were  on  perfectly  even  terms; 
in  fact,  the  advantage  was,  if  anything,  with  me,  as 
I  could  play  a  greater  number  of  roles  than  he,  and, 
more  important  than  that,  I  was  not  driven  by  sheer 
hate  and  malignity.  My  game  would  be  played 
entirely  with  the  head,  while  it  was  possible  with  Chu- 
Chu  that  emotion  might  lead  him  into  taking  chances. 

But  the  trouble  was  that  Chu-Chu  belonged  to  the 
Under-World,  which  I  had  left.  A  man  going  about 
his  business  in  a  respectable  state  of  Society  has 
about  as  much  chance  of  protecting  himself  against 
the  preformed  attack  of  a  dangerous  criminal  as  a 
stag  in  a  deer-park  would  have  of  escaping  a  hunter 
out  for  its  head.  I  knew  mighty  well  that  if  I  wanted 
to  kill  Chu-Chu  before  Chu-Chu  got  a  chance  to  kill 
me  I  would  have  to  take  a  dive  under  the  surface  of 
Society.  Otherwise  the  odds  would  be  those  of  a 
man  swimming  against  a  tiger-shark.  So  I  deter 
mined  to  slip  back  into  the  Under-World  long  enough 
to  do  for  Chu-Chu. 

This  may  sound  cold-blooded  and  ferocious  to 
you,  my  friend,  but  you  must  remember  that  I  had 
been  a  criminal  for  all  of  my  life.  As  I  have  told 
you  before,  I  was  never  one  of  those  thugs  who  walk 
into  a  house  with  a  loaded  gun,  ready  to  take  life  if 
interrupted.  But  I  had  never  placed  a  very  high 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  119 

value  on  my  own  life,  nor  on  that  of  any  other  crim 
inal.  As  I  saw  it,  the  law  was  always  "  off  "  on 
game  of  my  breed.  The  law  does  not  bother  itself 
very  much  when  it  stubs  its  toes  on  a  dead  thief,  and 
is  generally  quite  content  when  crooks  turn  to  and 
slaughter  each  other.  And  the  crooks  have  rather 
accepted  this  liberal  point  of  view. 

Although  it  was  known  to  only  a  few  people  in 
the  Under-World  that  M.  de  Maxeville  and  Chu- 
Chu  le  Tondeur  were  the  same,  I  thought  it  possible 
that  an  inquest  over  his  corpse  would  bring  this  to 
light  and  prevent  much  investigation  for  his  assassin. 
Whether  it  did  or  not,  I  certainly  did  not  intend  to 
sit  down  and  twirl  my  thumbs  and  wait  for  Chu-Chu 
to  bag  me.  Although  I  had  reformed,  my  principles 
had  not  yet  mounted  to  this  lofty  plane. 

One  thing  was  pretty  sure,  and  that  was  that  Chu- 
Chu  would  make  no  attempt  upon  my  life  until  he 
had  tried  to  swap  his  gems  back  for  the  pearls.  At 
least,  I  did  not  think  that  he  would.  Chu-Chu  was 
known  to  be  an  avaricious  man  and  he  knew  that  I 
wanted  that  particular  pearl  necklace  and  would  be 
willing  to  sacrifice  the  added  value  of  the  gems  to  get 
it.  I  had  little  doubt  but  that  I  would  hear  from 
hirn  in  regard  to  the  matter  before  the  day  was  over. 

Well,  the  game  was  on  now  and  all  that  I  could 
do  was  to  play  it  out.  On  leaving  Ivan's  house  I 
had  turned  down  a  street  which  led  to  the  garage 
where  I  stabled  our  six-cylinder  show-car,  for  John 
and  I  were  to  take  out  a  client  later.  The  garage 
was  a  big,  new  establishment,  near  the  Pare  Mon- 
ceau  and  accommodated  two  or  three  hundred  cars. 
When  I  got  there  I  found  that  my  tyres  were  a  little 


120  THE    CLOSING    NET 

soft  and  told  a  mecanicien  to  give  me  some  air.  He 
was  doing  this,  and  I  standing  by  waiting,  when  I 
heard  a  voice  that  struck  me  as  familiar.  I  looked 
up  over  the  top  of  the  tonneau,  then  ducked  down 
again,  for  there,  six  paces  away,  stood  Ivan's  chauf 
feur;  the  same  man  who  had  gone  with  us  the  night 
that  Leontine  and  I  entered  John's  house,  and  at  his 
elbow,  his  back  turned  to  me,  was  Chu-Chu. 

The  chauffeur  was  talking.      I  heard  him  say: 

'  We  will  go  by  Pontoise,  M'sieu.  It  is  less  di 
rect,  but  it  saves  the  time  that  would  be  lost  in  cross 
ing  Paris  and  the  road  is  better.  From  Pontoise 
there  is  a  little  route  to  Beauvais  which  is  now  in 
good  condition  and  cuts  off  a  good  deal  of  distance. 
After  Beauvais  we  stick  to  the  route  nationale." 

Chu-Chu  growled  something  that  I  did  not  hear, 
but  there  was  no  need.  Pontoise,  Beauvais,  and 
after  that  the  route  nationale.  It  was  plain  enough. 
Chu-Chu  was  off  for  Boulogne  or  Calais. 

The  car  came  down  that  minute  on  one  of  the  big 
lifts  and  the  two  got  aboard,  I  crouching  down  and 
pretending  to  examine  my  chain.  Out  went  the 
other  car,  which  I  recognised  as  Ivan's  16-24  two- 
seated  road-car.  Chu-Chu  was  driving.  I  looked 
after  it  and  took  the  number. 

Thought  I  to  myself,  "  Now  what  the  deuce  is  he 
up  to?  England?"  I  had  never  heard  of  Chu-Chu's 
having  done  any  work  over  there.  Then  it  struck 
me  that  his  errand  might  have  something  to  do  with 
Leontine.  It  was  possible  that  he  had  given  the 
pearls  that  morning  to  Leontine,  but  this  idea  I  put 
out  of  my  mind.  Leontine  would  know  where  they 
came  from,  and  I  did  not  believe  that  in  the  face  of 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  121 

my  threat  she  would  dare  to  dispose  of  them.  It 
must  be  something  else. 

I  shoved  the  gauge  into  my  fuel  tank  and  found 
that  I  had  but  fifteen  litres,  for  big  cars  going  on  the 
road  buy  their  essence  outside  of  Paris,  as  you  know, 
to  save  the  octroi  duty. 

"  Fill  the  reservoir,"  I  said  to  the  mecamcien. 
"  I  am  taking  out  some  clients  and  do  not  want  to 

o 

bother  to  stop  outside." 

While  the  man  was  getting  the  petrol  I  did  some 
rapid  thinking.  I  did  not  believe  that  Chu-Chu  was 
going  after  the  pearls.  But,  then,  what  was  he  up 
to? 

Another  idea  struck  me.  What  if  Chu-Chu's  er 
rand  was  not  to  get  the  pearls  but  to  dispose  of  them  ? 
What  if  he  had  turned  the  pearls  in  to  Ivan  and  the 
two  had  come  to  an  understanding  and  decided  to 
insist  on  Leontine's  getting  rid  of  them,  taking  the 
chances  on  getting  the  gems  from  me  later  by 
methods  of  their  own?  It  was  possible  that  they 
might  be  confident  that  I  would  keep  the  gems  on 
my  person,  and  even  at  that  moment  Ivan's  blood 
hounds  might  be  on  my  trail.  A  moment's 
thought  and  I  was  sure  that  this  was  the  actual 
situation. 

I  went  quickly  to  the  office  of  the  garage.  Prince 
Kharkoff,  I  knew,  lived  near  the  Pare  Monceau,  and 
it  was  most  probable  that  he  garaged  in  this  same  es 
tablishment. 

"  What  time  did  the  car  of  M.  le  Prince  Kharkoff 
go  out?  "  I  asked. 

"  At  ten  o'clock,  M.  Clamart,"  said  the  manager. 
"  M.  le  Prince  is  off  for  London." 


122  THE    CLOSING    NET 

'  Thank  you,"  said  I,  and  went  back  to  hurry  the 
mecanicien. 

For  with  this  information  it  seemed  to  me  that  the 
whole  business  was  clear.  Kharkoff's  car  was  a  big, 
heavy,  limousine  affair,  and  not  capable  of  much 
speed.  Kharkoff  would  probably  stop  at  St.  Ger 
main  for  dejeuner,  and  this  would  consume  an  hour 
and  a  half  at  least,  for  the  Russian  was  a  high-liver. 
After  dejeuner  they  would  take  the  road  to  Bou 
logne,  probably  stopping  at  Abbeville  for  tea,  and 
reaching  Boulogne  in  good  time  to  take  the  boat 
which  left  for  Folkestone  at  seven.  Chu-Chu  would 
push  right  through,  and  contrive  in  some  wray  to  get 
a  word  with  Leontine,  handing  over  to  her  the  pearls, 
with  strict  instructions  from  Ivan  that  she  dispose  of 
them.  After  that,  he  would  return  with  all  speed 
to  Paris  and  take  up  my  trail.  The  game  was  being 
undoubtedly  played  to  the  full  limit  and  to  win  the 
pearls,  the  gems  and  the  life  of  a  dangerous  rene 
gade. 

All  of  this  hit  me,  like  a  ton  of  brick,  as  the  true 
solution.  I  had  been  a  fool,  I  thought,  to  figure  for 
a  second  on  Chu-Chu's  condescending  to  make  a 
dicker  with  a  rank  outsider  who  had  handled  him  as 
I  had  done.  To  begin  with,  no  doubt  his  ferocious 
hate  was  so  intense  that  he  would  rather  have  lost 
the  gems  and  flung  the  pearls  into  the  Seine  than  to 
have  had  me  square  myself  with  the  Cuttynges. 
Ivan,  too,  had  been  humiliated  in  a  manner  impos 
sible  for  his  self-respect  as  the  chief  of  a  big  criminal 
system  to  endure.  Neither  one  could  stomach  it,  and 
they  had  joined  forces  again  to  play  the  game  out 
to  the  bitter  end. 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  123 

All  of  this,  my  friend,  had  flashed  through  my 
mind,  even  as  I  went  to  the  office  to  learn  when  the 
Prince's  car  had  gone  out.  Sooner,  in  fact.  The 
problem  and  its  possible  solution  had  occurred  to  me 
as  Chu-Chu  rolled  out  of  the  garage  when  I  had 
told  the  mecanicien  to  fill  up  my  tank.  In  the 
Under-World  the  odds  are  heavy  on  the  man  who 
strikes  first.  So  far  this  policy  had  won  for  me,  and 
I  determined  to  stick  to  it.  As  matters  stood  I  felt 
that  I  was  a  doomed  individual.  If  Ivan  had  marked 
me  for  the  morgue,  I  was  a  goner.  But,  at  any  rate, 
I  did  not  intend  to  mark  time  and  wait  for  the  blow 
to  fall.  My  word,  but  I  was  sorry  that  I  hadn't 
followed  my  play  through,  and  sent  them  both  to 
glory  when  I  had  had  the  chance ! 

But  Chu-Chu  had  not  yet  pulled  out  of  the  woods. 
My  plan,  at  the  moment,  was  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  to  catch  and  kill  him  on  the  road  to 
Boulogne. 

Ivan's  little  car  was  a  good  one,  but  she  was  no 
match  for  my  big  six.  I  decided  to  overhaul  Chu- 
Chu  on  the  road  somewhere  beyond  Amiens,  and,  as 
I  passed,  to  shoot  him  dead  as  he  sat  at  the  wheel. 
If  the  mecanicien  showed  fight,  I  would  kill  him,  too. 
Sounds  pretty  thick,  doesn't  it?  That's  because  we 
are  in  peaceful  old  France.  If  it  were  Arizona 
you'd  think  nothing  about  it. 

"All  ready,  m'sieu,"  said  the  garage  man;  and  I 
came  out  of  my  trance. 

I  got  my  motoring  ulster  and  a  face-mask  out  of 
the  locker,  then  climbed  into  the  car  and  rolled  out, 
turning  toward  the  Avenue  de  la  Grande  Armee. 
At  the  office  I  stopped  and  put  the  gems  in  the  safe, 


i24  THE    CLOSING    NET 

locking  them  up  in  an  inner  drawer,  and  putting  the 
key  in  my  pocket. 

"  I've  got  some  business  that  may  keep  me  out  all 
day,"  said  I  to  Gustave.  "  If  M.  Cuttynge  comes 
up,  tell  him  that  I  have  just  learned  of  something  im 
portant,  and  ask  him  to  make  another  rendezvous 
with  M.  Caldwell.  If  I  have  not  returned  by  seven, 
don't  wait." 

Out  I  went  and  jumped  into  the  car  and  rolled  off, 
leaving  Gustave  to  stare  after  me,  disgusted  that  I 
should  go  without  a  mccanicien.  My  mind  was 
working  fast  as  I  sped  along.  Plan  after  plan  went 
through  my  head.  It  struck  me  that  perhaps  the 
best  way  would  be  to  pass  Chu-Chu  when  he  was 
travelling  fast  and  crowd  him  into  the  ditch.  This 
would  not  be  difficult  with  a  big  heavy  car  like  mine; 
and  in  such  an  "  accident  "  the  driver  is  usually  killed 
while  the  man  beside  him  is  apt  to  escape.  If  neither 
was  injured,  I  could  always  go  back  and  finish  Chu- 
Chu  with  my  pistol.  Then  I  thought  of  even  a  bet 
ter  plan.  Why  not  get  on  ahead,  then  lay  my  car 
across  the  road  so  that  they  would  have  to  stop,  and 
hold  Chu-Chu  up  and  go  through  him  for  the  pearls? 
Once  having  got  them,  I  could  rush  back  to  Paris, 
turn  over  the  pearls  and  the  gems  to  John,  with  in 
structions  to  give  the  latter  to  the  police,  and  get  out 
of  the  country  as  quick  as  possible.  I  did  not  be 
lieve  that  Ivan  or  Chu-Chu  would  follow  me  up  if  I 
went  to  America,  though  it  was  possible  that  Chu- 
Chu  might. 

Sounds  as  if  I  began  to  weaken  as  I  went  along, 
doesn't  it?  Well,  perhaps  I  did.  The  odds  against 
me  were  too  awful  heavy,  and  life  is  sweet,  after  all. 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  125 

The  strain  was  beginning  to  tell,  too,  and  I  knew  that 
this  would  get  steadily  worse.  A  fight  in  the  open 
is  all  right;  but  to  feel  that  you  are  being  watched 
and  dogged  and  shadowed  by  a  big  human  octopus, 
to  be  struck  down  at  the  first  unguarded  moment,  is 
pretty  awful.  I  don't  pretend  to  any  more  nerve 
than  the  average  man  who  has  lived  the  most  of  his 
active  life  in  the  Under-World.  Besides,  I  never 
was  a  killer. 

Out  I  went  through  St.  Germain  to  avoid  the 
•pavee,  and  turned  off  for  Pontoise,  taking  a  good 
road  gait  but  not  pushing  her  any.  It  was  a  beauti 
ful  day  in  the  early  summer,  and  as  I  filled  my  lungs 
with  the  sweet  perfume  of  the  forest  it  struck  me  as 
being  mighty  rough  that  I  should  be  crowded  out 
just  when  life  seemed  to  be  opening  up  all  anew  and 
full  of  promise.  If  only  they  could  have  left  me  in 
peace.  I  thought  of  Edith's  sweet  face  and  won 
dered  what  she  would  say  if  she  knew  how  things 
had  turned  out.  At  any  rate,  living  or  dead,  she 
would  know  that  I  had  stuck  to  my  word  and  taken 
the  consequences  without  flinching,  and  this  thought 
did  me  a  lot  of  good.  After  all,  my  life  had  been 
lived  at  the  expense  of  Society,  and  Society  had  a 
right  to  collect  her  debt  before  taking  me  back.  A 
curious  thing,  this  life.  No  act  ever  seems  to  go  for 
nothing,  good  or  bad.  I  began  to  get  mighty 
thoughtful  as  I  rolled  along  through  that  splendid 
old  forest  of  St.  Germain.  A  deep  sadness  settled 
on  me.  After  all,  I  thought,  what's  the  use  of  try 
ing  to  escape  your  destiny.  Very  likely  God  made 
thieves  and  murderers  to  prey  on  the  rest  of  man 
kind  just  as  he  made  wolves  and  panthers  to  prey 


126  THE    CLOSING    NET 

on  deer.  About  half  of  the  living  creatures  in  the 
world  prey  on  the  other  half.  It's  hard  to  see  the 
use  of  a  criminal,  except  to  himself  and  others  of 
his  class,  but  it  struck  me  that  maybe  Chu-Chu  had 
run  over  the  limit  and  that  I  was  intended  as  an  in 
strument  to  put  a  check  on  him.  That  was  a  cheer 
ful  way  to  look  at  it,  anyway. 

I  passed  through  Pontoise  and  held  on  for  Beau- 
vais  by  the  little  route  that  Ivan's  man  had  spoken 
of  at  the  garage.  It  was  a  pity,  I  thought,  that  I 
could  not  have  caught  them  up  here,  for  there  was 
nobody  on  the  road.  By  this  time  I  had  my  plan 
all  made.  I  determined  to  pass  Chu-Chu  at  high 
speed  and  literally  crowd  him  off  the  road.  This 
would  be  dangerous  to  me,  of  course,  as  it's  a  risky 
job  to  mix  up  the  direction  of  a  big  car  running  at  a 
high  speed,  but  I  would  be  prepared  and  ought  to 
be  able  to  stick  to  the  track.  As  you  know,  these 
French  roads  are  drained  by  ditches  at  least  a  foot 
deep  and  a  foot  wide,  running  off  at  right-angles  and 
spaced  only  ten  or  a  dozen  metres  apart.  Shoved 
into  one  of  those  while  running  fast,  Chu-Chu's 
chances  were  all  for  getting  piled  up.  What  hap 
pened  after  that  would  depend  on  circumstances.  I 
gave  up  the  idea  of  stopping  him  by  laying  my  own 
car  across  the  road.  In  the  first  place  there  was  the 
danger  that  he  might  recognise  me,  even  in  my  mask 
and  ulster.  Also,  it  was  possible  that  somebody 
might  come  along  and  interfere  with  the  rest  of  the 
game. 

At  Beauvais  I  struck  the  route  nationale  and  hit 
up  my  speed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  big  six  was 
tearing  along  like  a  comet.  Very  few  people  were 


HAWK   AND    RAVEN  127 

on  the  road,  but  presently  I  sighted  a  cloud  of  dust 
ahead  and  over-hauled  a  big  limousine  car  with  a 
trunk  on  behind  and  a  lot  of  small  luggage  on  top. 

"  Kharkoff !  "  I  said  to  myself,  and  sure  enough  it 
was.  I  cut  loose  the  siren  and  the  car  swerved  out 
to  the  right,  and  as  I  tore  past  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  Prince  inside  and  Leontine.  They  could  not 
have  recognised  me,  my  face  being  covered  with  the 
mask,  but  I  hoped  that  Chu-Chu  was  far  enough 
ahead  to  enable  me  to  finish  my  business  with  him  be 
fore  they  came  up,  and  this  seemed  probable  as  the 
little  car  was  light  and  fast. 

I  passed  through  Amiens,  then  hit  up  the  speed 
again.  Then,  just  outside  the  town  I  sighted  a  small 
car  spinning  up  a  hill  on  ahead.  Getting  closer  I 
saw  that  there  were  two  men  aboard  it.  They  were 
travelling  fast,  but  I  slowed  a  bit,  as  the  place  was 
too  populated  for  my  purpose. 

Five  kilometres  spun  past  and  we  were  in  a  big, 
open  country  with  a  clear  road  and  few  houses,  these 
for  the'  most  part  scattered  farms,  with  here  and 
there  some  peasants  working  in  the  fields.  I  took  a 
long  breath. 

"  Now  for  it,"  I  said  to  myself.  "  I'll  get  him  on 
the  next  long  down-grade." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    FALCON    STRIKES 

I  GLANCED  at  the  watch  in  front  of  me  and  saw  that 
it  was  three  o'clock.  It  would  take  Kharkoff  a  good 
twenty  minutes  to  catch  us  up,  I  thought,  and  by  that 
time  I  ought  to  have  the  job  done  and  be  away,  pro 
vided  I  did  not  put  my  own  car  out  of  action. 
Ahead  of  me,  Chu-Chu  had  hit  the  top  of  the  grade 
and  disappeared.  I  opened  up  the  big  six  and  she 
went  up  that  hill  like  a  thirteen-inch  shell.  Then, 
here  was  a  cloud  of  dust  ahead,  and  as  I  tore  down 
the  slope  on  the  other  side  I  saw  that  it  was  a  big 
limousine  touring-car  full  of  people.  She  was  chug 
ging  along  like  an  old  tugboat,  rattling  like  a  junk- 
cart.  I  swore.  The  place  was  perfect  for  my  plan, 
and  there  was  Chu-Chu  going  down  the  grade  ahead 
like  a  scared  rabbit. 

But  the  confounded  old  hearse  behind  her  spoiled 
everything,  and  I  knew  that  at  the  gait  we  were 
travelling  we  would  mighty  soon  strike  Abbeville. 
So  I  decided  to  wait  until  after  that  place,  which  was 
just  as  well,  the  country  being  wilder  and  bleaker  be 
yond.  I  slowed  down  so  as  to  keep  Chu-Chu's  dust 
in  sight. 

Soon  we  went  through  Abbeville  and  out  on  to  the 
big  straight  road  beyond.  That  two-seater  of  Ivan's 
could  certainly  get  over  the  route  and  Chu-Chu  was 
a  good  driver.  I  realised  that  I  must  ditch  him  be 
fore  Montreuil,  as  after  that  the  road  is  more  fre- 

128 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          129 

quented,  so  I  hit  up  my  pace  and  began  to  draw  in 
on  his  heels.  Then  all  at  once  there  opened  out  a 
splendid,  long,  soaring  descent  with  one  or  two  gentle 
rises,  for  the  country  here  is  in  great  undulations, 
like  a  big  Pacific  ground-swell.  Better  yet,  there  was 
a  row  of  poplars  on  either  side  of  the  road. 

"  If  I  can  only  manage  to  chuck  him  into  one  of 
those,"  I  thought,  "  I  can  see  where  the  tide-water 
clam  gets  a  new  lease  of  life." 

The  time  had  come.  I  gave  the  big  six  the  accel 
erator,  then  opened  up  the  siren.  "  Wop  —  wop  — 
Wow-ow,"  she  went.  Chu-Chu's  mecanicien  looked 
back,  then  said  something  to  Chu-Chu.  He  swerved 
out,  never  slackening  his  speed,  which  must  have 
been  around  sixty  kilometres,  while  my  gauge  showed 
ninety-six —  a  mile  a  minute,  just.  We  were  soaring 
down  a  long  three  per  cent,  grade,  and  the  poplar 
trunks  flashing  past  like  the  palings  of  a  fence. 

"  If  he  gets  out  of  this  alive  the  joke  is  certainly 
on  me,"  I  thought,  and  gripped  the  wheel  with  all  of 
the  strength  that  was  in  me. 

Down  I  rushed  like  an  angel  of  death,  the  silencer 
open  and  the  exhaust  roaring  like  a  gatling  gun.. 
Until  almost  up  to  him  I  kept  well  over  to  the  left,, 
then  began  to  edge  in.  The  mecanicien  looked  back 
over  his  shoulder,  and  as  he  saw  me  crowding  them, 
yelled  something  in  Chu-Chu's  ear.  Chu-Chu  slid 
over,  getting  dangerously  off  the  crown  of  the  road 
and  almost  into  the  ditch.  I  followed  him,  working 
closer.  I  saw  the  mecanicien's  mouth  open  in  a  yell 
and  he  flung  out  one  arm.  Ruthless  as  a  greyhound 
at  the  side  of  a  hare,  I  closed  in  on  him,  forging  al 
ways  ahead.  My  eyes  never  left  the  road,  but  I 


130  THE    CLOSING    NET 

could  feel  my  mudguard  rubbing  his.  This  time  the 
yell  of  the  mecamcien  reached  me.  It  sounded  like 
the  bleat  of  a  sheep. 

Then,  evenly  abreast  and  my  foot  nursing  the 
pedal,  I  shot  ahead,  giving  the  wheel  the  slightest 
twist.  I  heard  the  grind  of  metal,  then  a  crash  as  I 
flirted  the  stern  of  my  big  car  into  the  forward  end 
of  the  other.  I  did  not  dare  take  my  eyes  from  the 
road,  and  so  slight  was  the  jar  that  I  thought  that 
I  had  missed.  But  a  shriek  pierced  the  roaring  of 
the  exhaust  and  the  next  instant  I  heard  from  far  be 
hind  me,  as  it  seemed,  a  terrific  crash.  I  cut  off  the 
power  and  braked,  gently. 

The  car  slowed,  then  stopped  and  I  looked  back. 
There  was  nothing  on  the  road  behind  me.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  ditch,  against  the  trees.  I  flung 
up  my  mask.  Lord  of  Life,  but  what  was  this,  out 
there  in  the  standing  wheat?  The  other  car,  as  I 
hope  to  live.  The  other  car,  both  men  still  aboard 
it,  and  still  going.  It  looked  like  a  western  reaper, 
out  there  in  the  waving  grain. 

I  rubbed  my  eyes.  What  had  happened?  How 
did  he  get  out  there  intact? 

Then  suddenly  I  understood.  Even  as  I  closed 
in  on  him,  Chu-Chu  had  guessed  what  was  afoot. 
Perhaps  he  recognised  me,  mask  and  all,  in  one  swift 
sidelong  glance.  He  saw  my  deadly  intention  and 
his  marvellous  quick  wit  had  leaped  at  the  only  pos 
sible  means  of  escape  from  annihilation.  The  shove 
I  gave  him  had  aided  his  own  design  and  he  had 
leaped  the  cross  ditch,  slipped  between  the  trees, 
crashed  through  the  hedge  and  shot  into  the  wheat- 
field. 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          131 

I  stared  at  the  line  of  poplars.  At  the  foot  of 
one  lay  a  heap  of  debris;  mudguards  and  marchepied, 
shorn  off  against  a  tree-trunk.  Then  I  looked  across 
at  the  car.  It  was  still  in  motion,  crawling  on  first 
speed  through  the  grain  and  heading  back  for  the 
road. 

At  the  same  instant  I  heard  the  shriek  of  a  siren 
ahead.  Down  an  opposite  slope  came  a  cloud  of 
dust.  It  reached  the  bottom  of  the  descent  and  hit 
the  slight  up-grade.  Up  it  came,  and  at  a  distance 
of  several  hundred  metres  the  people  aboard  it 
sighted  Chu-Chu,  out  there  in  the  wheat.  The  car 
slowed,  then  stopped  beside  my  own. 

"  What  is  that?  "  cried  the  mecanicien.  "  What 
are  those  people  doing  out  there?  " 

"  I  am  afraid,"  I  answered,  "  that  the  fault  is 
mine.  I  was  trying  this  new  car  and,  passing  Mon 
sieur  at  a  high  speed,  crowded  him  too  close.  Fear 
ing  to  be  pushed  into  the  ditch  he  ran  out  into  the 
field." 

There  were  three  people  in  the  tonneau,  two 
women  and  a  man.  They  cried  out  in  wonder  and 
excitement. 

"  He  has  had  a  close  call,"  said  the  chauffeur. 
"  See,  he  scraped  off  his  mudguards  on  a  tree." 
And  with  that  they  all  began  to  talk  at  once,  and 
from  the  trend  of  the  conversation  I  saw  that  the 
popular  sympathy  was  not  with  me. 

Then  Chu-Chu  did  what  must  have  impressed 
them  as  an  incomprehensible  thing.  He  had  made 
a  detour  in  the  wheat  and  was  approaching  the  road 
below  us,  where  there  was  an  entrance  in  the  field. 
Reaching  this  he  turned  on  to  the  route,  when,  with- 


132  THE    CLOSING    NET 

out  so  much  as  a  backward  glance,  he  threw  in  his 
speed  and  whirled  off  down  the  slope. 

"  But  look,"  cried  the  chauffeur,  "  he  is  going 
on!" 

The  others  were  silent  from  sheer  amazement. 
No  recriminations,  no  abuse,  no  proces-verbal?  It 
was  unheard  of,  astounding.  They  looked  at  me 
for  an  explanation  of  such  conduct. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  I,  "  doubtless  feels  himself  to 
be  in  the  wrong.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  was 
plenty  of  room.  Perhaps  he  lost  his  head  and  is 
angry  and  ashamed  and  feels  that  the  less  said  the 
better." 

The  tide  of  sympathy  quickly  turned.  "  That 
must  be  the  case,"  said  the  chauffeur.  "  As  a  mat 
ter  of  fact  there  is  room  for  three  cars  to  pass  abreast 
on  this  road.  A  man  who  cannot  keep  his  head 
ought  not  to  drive.  It  is  to  imperil  his  own  life  and 
that  of  others." 

I  agreed  with  him,  wondering  what  he  would  say 
when  he  saw  my  tracks,  farther  up  the  slope.  But 
there  was  nothing  more  to  discuss,  so  I  bowed  and 
started  ahead.  I  knew  that  they  would  stop  to  look 
at  the  twisted  remains  of  Chu-Chu's  mudguards, 
and  I  could  imagine  their  fresh  mystification  at 
his  taking  the  matter  so  indifferently  when  they 
noted  the  evidence  of  our  relative  tracks.  I 
doubted  that  I  had  left  him  the  room  for  a  man  on 
a  bicycle. 

On  I  went,  slowly  and  thinking  hard.  Chu-Chu 
had  escaped  by  a  miracle,  aided  by  his  own  extra 
ordinary  coolness,  skill  and  lightning  thought.  I 
actually  admired  the  man.  But  it  was  plain  enough 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          133 

that  the  scheme  was  not  one  to  be  tried  a  second  time. 
Chu-Chu  and  the  mecanicien  were  both  armed,  no 
doubt,  and  I  could  imagine  the  amiable  state  of  their 
emotions. 

A  kilometre  along  I  stopped  and  got  out  to  look  at 
my  own  damage,  which  amounted  to  no  more  than  a 
flattened  mudguard,  the  heavy  angle-irons  having 
taken  all  the  strain  and  bent  double.  This  was  a 
slight  affair  and  could  be  repaired  in  a  few  minutes 
at  any  wayside  forge. 

Well,  that  trick  was  played,  and  Chu-Chu  had  won 
it.  There  was  no  sense  in  following  him  up  now,  so 
I  took  the  next  cross-road  and  returned  at  a  good 
gait  to  Paris. 

On  the  way  back  my  mind  was  presented  by  a  very 
nasty  consideration.  The  war  with  Chu-Chu  was 
now  on,  full  blast,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  owing 
to  our  remarkable  resemblance  John's  life  was  in  al 
most  as  much  danger  as  my  own.  Chu-Chu  was  not 
the  man  to  risk  losing  a  chance  through  fear  of  get 
ting  the  wrong  person.  John  must  be  warned  im 
mediately,  and  persuaded,  if  possible,  to  leave  the 
country  and  remain  away  until  the  feud  was  settled. 
So  on  reaching  the  garage  I  jumped  into  a  taxi  and 
went  immediately  to  his  house. 

The  old  maitre  d'hotel  seemed  rather  disturbed 
as  he  let  me  in,  and  a  moment  later  I  knew  why. 
Drunken  snores  were  reverberating  through  the 
ante-chambre.  The  old  servant  threw  out  his  hands 
with  a  shrug. 

"  Yes,  it  is  M'sieu',"  says  he.  "  M'sieu'  has  not 
been  himself  to-day.  He  has  consumed  an  entire 
bottle  of  whisky."  He  said  this  as  though  speaking 


i34  THE    CLOSING    NET 

of  potassium  cyanide.  "  After  dejeuner,  M'sieu' 
threw  himself  down  upon  the  divan  in  the  library  and 
went  to  sleep.  Before  long  he  began  to  snore. 
For  the  sake  of  Madame  I  tried  to  persuade  him  to 
go  up  to  his  room,  but  M'sieu's  temper  was  very 
disagreeable.  In  fact,  he  threatened  Frangois  with 
violence." 

"  Are  the  ladies  at  home?  "  I  asked. 

"  Madame  is  reposing  in  her  boudoir,  but  she  left 
orders  that  if  M.  Clamart  were  to  call,  he  should 
be  shown  up  immediately.  Miss  Dalghren  has  gone 
out." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  stairs  and  I  followed,  paus 
ing  for  a  moment  to  glance  into  the  library.  There 
was  John  stretched  out  on  his  back,  snoring  to 
heaven  and  his  face  purple.  He  was  not  pretty.  I 
wondered  if  he  often  did  that  sort  of  thing,  but  did 
not  care  to  ask. 

I  followed  the  old  man  up  the  stairs.  He 
announced  me  at  Edith's  door,  and  I  heard  a 
sweet,  low-pitched  voice  reply:  "  Que  Monsieur 
entre." 

I  went  in  and  closed  the  door  gently  behind  me. 
John's  drunken  snores  were  filling  the  whole  house. 
Edith  wras  lying  on  a  chaise-longue  by  the  open  win 
dow.  A  thrush  was  singing  in  the  garden  and  there 
was  the  odour  of  lilacs.  Edith  did  not  rise,  but 
looked  up  at  me  with  her  sweet  smile.  She  was  pale, 
and  there  were  dark  shadows  under  her  eyes,  but  her 
face  was  tranquil  and  the  eyes  themselves  clear  and 
steady  as  always. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Frank,"  she  said.  "  My 
warmest  congratulations  on  your  success." 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          135 

"  My  success?  "  I  repeated. 

"  Yes,  in  getting  Mary's  pearls.  I  told  them  that, 
you  would." 

"  Oh,"  I  answered,  "  I'd  almost  forgotten  that. 
Truth  is,  Edith,  I  hoped  to  have  yours  this  evening, 
but  things  have  gone  a  bit  wrong." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  about  it?  "  she  asked. 

"  Only  this.  Miss  Dalghren's  necklace  was  stolen 
to  put  me  in  a  bad  light." 

"  I  know  that,"  she  interrupted. 

"How?"  I  asked. 

"  John  found  the  prints  of  your  tennis  shoes  in 
the  flower-bed  under  the  window.  It  is  an  unusual 
pattern,  and  you  wore  those  shoes  one  afternoon, 
you  remember,  when  you  went  with  John  to  Chartres. 
Then,  Mary  discovered  one  of  your  handkerchiefs  in 
her  room.  It  was  all  plain  enough." 

I  felt  my  face  getting  hot.  "  John  might  have 
told  me  this,"  I  growled. 

Edith  reached  over  and  patted  the  back  of  my 
hand. 

;'  Don't  worry,  Frank.  We  knew  that  it  was  all 
a  put-up  job.  That  woman?  "  She  raised  her  deli 
cate  eyebrows. 

I  nodded. 

"  She  wanted  to  get  you  back,"  said  Edith.  ;<  I 
guessed  that  much." 

"  How  about  John  and  Miss  Dalghren?  "  I  asked. 

"Did  you  see  John  when  you  came  in?"  she 
asked. 

"  No.     He  was  asleep." 

Edith  glanced  out  of  the  window.  "  John  has 
been  drinking  too  much  for  a  long  time,  and  thinks 


136  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"that  I  have  not  noticed  it,"  said  she,  quietly.  "  I 
hate  the  idea  of  nagging,  Frank,  so  I  have  waited 
.for  a  culmination  which  would  make  my  protest  un 
avoidable.  Now  it  has  come.  John  is  dead  drunk 
in  his  own  drawing-room,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
He  cannot  be  awakened.  He  is  a  kind  husband  and 
a  very  proud  man,  and  I  have  no  fear  but  that  the 
remorse  which  follows  this  will  effect  the  result  I 
want.  John  will  pass  me  his  word  .  .  .  and 
like  yourself,  Frank,  he  keeps  his  word.  A  family 
trait."  She  smiled. 

Now  what  do  you  think  of  that?  Here  were  the 
two  string  of  pearls  stolen  and  my  tracks  and  hand 
kerchief  found.  Yet  this  woman's  faith  in  me  was 
as  firm  and  unwavering  as  ever.  And  her  own 
pearls  were  still  missing.  For  the  moment  I  could 
hardly  speak. 

"  This  has  been  hard  on  us  all,  Frank,"  Edith  went 
on.  "  It  has  been  hard  on  John,  because  he  is  a 
practical  sort  of  person  and  inclined  to  look  at  mat 
ters  from  their  results.  To  be  frank,  I  think  that  it 
is  the  worry  of  these  thefts  which  is  accountable  for 
his  condition." 

"  Does  he  suspect  me?  "  I  asked. 

"  No.  He  is  very  worried,  though,  over  the 
whole  affair." 

"And  Miss  Dalghren?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  is  less  charitable.  She  refuses  to  believe 
that  you  are  not  in  some  way  interested.  When  I 
pointed  out  that  nobody  as  adroit  as  yourself  would 
go  tramping  about  a  flower-bed  with  shoes  having  a 
design  stamped  on  the  sole,  or  would  have  dropped 
a  handkerchief  in  her  room,  she  said:  '  I  don't  be- 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          137 

lleve  that  he  stole  my  necklace.'  She  agreed  with 
me  that  that  theft  was  a  put-up  job  on  the  part  of 
your  former  confreres  who  used  you  as  a  scapegoat. 
But  she  argued  that  inasmuch  as  this  had  occurred 
you  felt  that  there  was  no  sense  in  having  the  name 
without  the  game,  and  that  you  had  come  down  the 
next  night  and  stolen  mine." 

"  Miss  Dalghren  must  have  a  beautiful  idea  of 
my  sense  of  gratitude,"  said  I. 

"  She  has  had  some  bitter  experiences  where  grati 
tude  was  concerned,  Frank,"  Edith  answered. 
"  Besides,  while  a  sweet  and  sympathetic  girl, 
she  is  not  over  bright.  You  see,  Frank,  I  am  not 
holding  back  a  single  thing  from  you.  It  is  better 
that  you  should  know  exactly  how  you  stand  with 
us."  ^ 

"And  you,  Edith?"  I  asked. 

A  warm  flush  came  into  her  lovely  face.  "  I 
know  that  you  are  innocent  of  any  wrong,  Frank," 
said  she. 

My  friend,  for  a  moment  I  could  scarcely  speak. 
Something  rose  in  my  throat  and  choked  me,  and 
there  was  a  mist  in  my  eyes.  I  reached  for  Edith's 
hand  and  raised  it  to  my  lips. 

"  Thank  you,  Edith,"  was  all  I  could  manage  to 
say. 

For  a  moment  or  two  neither  of  us  spoke.  Edith 
was  looking  at  me  questioningly. 

"Is  there  anything  that  you  can  tell  me?"  she 
asked.  "  I  have  no  doubts,  Frank,  but  I  am  curi 
ous."  She  smiled. 

For  the  instant  I  was  tempted  to  tell  her  the  whole 
story.  I  felt  that  her  quiet  faith  in  me  entitled  her 


138  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  know.  I  wanted  her  to  see  what  I  had  been 
through  —  what  I  was  risking  to  clear  myself  and 
restore  her  jewels. 

But  second  thoughts  prevented  this.  I  knew  that 
the  tale  would  prove  too  much  for  her.  I  was  un 
willing  to  expose  her  to  the  shock.  More  than  that, 
if  Edith  had  known  that  I  was  holding  stolen  gems 
as  security  for  the  return  of  her  jewels  she  would 
never  have  permitted  it.  So  I  said: 

"  I  can't  tell  you  anything  just  yet,  Edith.  All  I 
can  say  is  that  Miss  Dalghren's  pearls  were  stolen, 
as  you  supposed,  to  drive  me  back  to  the  old  life. 
The  theft  of  yours  was  different.  The  same  person 
who  had  been  detailed  to  do  the  first  job  for  some 
body  else,  came  back  and  did  the  second  on  his  own 
account.  But  the  hand  is  not  yet  played  out.  Give 
me  a  little  more  time." 

Soon  after  that  I  left  her  and  went  out  of  the 
house.  Half-way  across  the  garden  I  saw  the  gate 
open  and  Miss  Dalghren  came  in.  Her  colour 
changed  on  seeing  me  and  for  the  moment  she  seemed 
uncertain  as  to  how  she  should  act.  Then  she  came 
forward  quickly. 

u  Mr.  Clamart,"  said  she,  "  may  I  speak  a  few 
words  to  you?  " 

u  Certainly,  Miss  Dalghren,"  I  answered. 

"  Then  come  over  here,"  said  she,  and  led  the  way 
to  the  summer-house.  Inside  the  vine-covered  bower 
she  motioned  me  to  sit  opposite. 

"  Mr.  Clamart,"  said  she,  fastening  her  vivid,  blue 
eyes  on  mine.  "  First  of  all  I  want  to  thank  you  for 
the  recovery  of  my  pearls." 

I  bowed. 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          139 

"  Have  you  succeeded  in  learning  anything  about 
Edith's?"  she  asked. 

"  Not  yet,"  I  answered. 

A  shadow  crossed  her  face.     Her  colour  deepened. 

"You  have  seen  Edith?" 

"  I  have  just  left  her,"  said  I.  "  She  told  me  of 
your  suspicions.  They  are  not  the  truth,  but  I  don't 
blame  you  for  having  them." 

She  made  an  impatient  gesture  with  her  hand. 

"  I  should  hardly  describe  them  as  suspicions,  Mr. 
Clamart,"  said  she,  and  gave  me  a  straight  look. 
"  They  are  rather  more  than  that." 

"  Indeed?  "  I  answered.  It  struck  me  all  of  a 
sudden  that  Chu-Chu  must  have  left  some  more  con 
vincing  evidence  the  second  time  than  he  did  the 
first.  But  I  was  rather  beyond  caring  much  about 
that  now.  Edith  believed  in  me  and  that  was 
enough. 

Miss  Dalghren's  intent  blue  eyes  never  left  mine. 
I  began  to  feel  my  patience  squirming  around  a  bit. 
Thought  I,  this  fool  of  a  girl  thinks  that  she  knows 
something  and  is  trying  to  make  me  'fess  up.  Even 
if  she  were  right,  I  wonder  if  she  thinks  her  will  is 
stronger  than  mine?  Does  she  take  me  for  a  Sun 
day-school  scholar?  Or  a  pilfering  valet-de-cham- 
bre?  I  began  to  get  angry.  Miss  Dalghren  was 
one  of  those  noble,  upright  women  who  are  so 
straight  that  they  bend  over  backward.  For  that 
kind,  all  humanity  is  divided  into  two  big  classes; 
good  and  bad.  There  is  nothing  between.  Such 
people  have  an  unbounded  faith  in  the  militant 
strength  of  virtue.  Secure  in  their  own  they  are 
convinced  that  no  sinful  person  can  meet  the  power 


1 40  THE    CLOSING    NET 

of  their  blameless  eye,  and  they  keep  on  thinking  so 
until  some  joker  with  an  equally  strong  but  more 
supple  will  bamboozles  them  out  of  whatever  it  is 
that  they  value  most.  I  have  always  hated  that 
breed  of  unconscious  "  oh,  come,  sinning  brother,  and 
sin  no  more"  pharisee.  They  do  a  lot  of  harm; 
much  more,  in  fact,  than  others  with  a  lot  less  virtue 
and  a  little  more  tolerance.  This  girl  was  convinced 
that  I  had  stolen  Edith's  pearls,  and  nothing  was 
going  to  unconvince  her.  I  wasn't.  She  made  me 
tired. 

Miss  Dalghren  may  have  seen  my  face  harden  up, 
for  her  eyes  began  to  blaze.  At  least,  there  was 
plenty  of  fight  in  her,  and  no  fear  at  all. 

"  Mr.  Clamart,"  says  she,  "  have  you  no  sense  of 
gratitude?  No  scruple  nor  respect  for  your  given 
word?  Just  think  what  these  people  did  for  you. 
Think  of  the  penal  servitude  from  which  they  res 
cued  you  and  the  opportunity  which  they  have  of 
fered  you  for  reconstructing  your  life.  And  see  the 
suffering  that  you  have  brought  into  their  home. 
There  is  John  — 

"  He's  not  suffering  much  at  the  present  moment," 
I  interrupted. 

Her  teeth  came  together  with  a  click  and  she 
clenched  her  fists. 

"How  can  you  sneer  like  that?"  she  cried. 
"  John  is  lying  there  in  the  library,  dead  drunk. 
And  why?  Because  of  the  shame  and  remorse  that 
has  resulted  from  your  cruelty.  John  suspects  you. 
So  far,  he  merely  suspects;  he  has  not  the  absolute 
knowledge  that  I  have." 

"  Absolute  knowledge  of  what?  "  I  asked. 


THE    FALCON    STRIKES          141 

'  That  you  stole  Edith's  pearls,"  says  she,  pushing 
out  her  square  little  chin. 

"  So  much  the  better  for  John,"  I  remarked. 

A  spasm  of  anger  went  across  her  face. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  so  much  the  better  for 
John,  perhaps.  But  it  is  not  so  much  the  better  for 
you,  Mr.  Clamart.  Now  listen  to  me.  I  don't 
like  to  make  threats,  but  I  will  not  stand  quietly  by 
and  see  the  happiness  of  my  friends  wrecked  by  such 
a  man  as  you.  I  felt  from  the  first  that  this  experi 
ment  was  foolish  and  dangerous,  but  I  did  think  that 
you  would  at  least  spare  your  benefactors.  But 
since  you  appear  to  be  dead  to  all  sense  of  finer 
feeling,  I  mean  to  act.  If  those  pearls  are  not  re 
stored  within  forty-eight  hours,  I  will  tell  what  I 
know." 

"  And  what  is  that?  "  I  asked. 

She  gave  her  handsome  head  a  toss.  "  It  is  quite 
enough,"  she  answered;  and  turning  on  her  heel, 
walked  out  of  the  summer-house  and  took  the  path 
to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  X 

ROSENTHAL 

WHEN  I  went  to  bed  that  night  I  moved  a  chair 
against  the  bolted  door  and  balanced  the  water- 
pitcher  so  that  it  would  fall  at  the  least  jar.  I  also 
rigged  a  simple  but  effective  burglar  alarm  on  the 
windows,  then  went  to  sleep  with  the  pistol  under  my 
pillow.  My  dreams  were  not  pleasant. 

When  the  garcon  brought  me  the  newspaper  with 
my  coffee  at  eight  in  the  morning,  here  on  the  first 
page,  in  big  scare-heads,  was  the  following  news: 

"  DARING  ROBBERY  ON  CHANNEL  STEAMER. 
Jewels  worth  £12,000  stolen  on  Dover-Calais  Pass 
age.  Victim,  Hon.  Mrs.  Allerton-Staire  May  Die. 
No  trace  of  Thief." 

So  this  was  Chu-Chu's  errand  to  Boulogne.  With 
out  reading  farther,  I  laid  down  the  paper  to  think. 

Chu-Chu's  business  then  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  pearls.  He  had  bigger  game  afoot.  I  saw 
Ivan's  hand  in  this  job.  Chu-Chu  had  probably 
taken  the  boat  which  left  Boulogne  at  seven,  crossed 
to  Folkestone,  then  gone  to  Dover,  where  he  had 
awaited  the  train  which  left  London  at  nine. 

I  picked  up  the  paper  and  ran  quickly  through  the 
account.  The  victim,  it  appeared,  was  on  her  way 
to  Paris,  accompanied  by  her  maid.  She  carried  her 
jewels  in  a  small  valise,  which  she  never  permitted  to 
leave  her  hand  in  travelling.  The  crossing  had  been 

142 


ROSENTHAL  143 

rough,  and  the  maid  had  immediately  succumbed  to 
sea-sickness  and  gone  into  her  mistress's  state-room 
to  lie  down.  Mrs.  Allerton-Staire  had  walked  for 
a  few  minutes  on  deck,  then  seated  herself  in  a  deck- 
chair.  Growing  suddenly  ill  she  had  gone  to  her 
cabin,  assisted  by  a  gentleman  who  had  been  sitting 
next  her.  She  had  the  satchel  containing  the  jewels 
in  her  hand  at  the  time.  Immediately  on  reaching 
her  state-room  she  had  fallen  in  a  syncope  from 
which  she  could  not  be  roused  on  reaching  Calais. 
It  was  then  discovered  that  the  bottom  of  the  satchel 
had  a  long  incision,  the  jewel-case  being  gone.  Sus 
picion  was  at  once  directed  against  the  man  who  had 
been  sitting  beside  the  unfortunate  woman  on  deck, 
and  who  was  described  as  a  gentlemanly  looking  per 
son  with  a  square  black  beard.  In  assisting  the  lady 
he  had  been  heard  to  remark  that  he  was  a  physician. 
It  was  supposed  that  he  had  given  her  some  power 
ful  hypnotic,  probably  asserting  it  to  be  a  remedy  for 
sea-sickness.  This  was,  however,  mere  surmise,  as 
the  victim  was  still  unconscious  and  in  a  very  low 
condition.  When  the  theft  was  discovered,  this  man 
was  not  to  be  found,  either  aboard  the  boat  nor  in 
Calais,  where  a  thorough  search  was  made  for  him 
by  the  police.  It  was  thought  that  he  had  left  the 
town  in  an  automobile  —  and  there  was  the  usual 
amount  of  speculation,  and  theories. 

Reading  the  article  through  I  regretted  more  than 
ever  my  failure  of  the  afternoon  before.  It  was 
really  unnecessary  to  poison  the  poor  woman,  and  I 
could  think  of  nobody  but  Chu-Chu  who  would  have 
been  apt  to  do  so.  The  doctors,  however,  hoped 
for  her  recovery. 


144  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Well,  Chu-Chu  had  pulled  off  his  job  and  was 
probably  at  the  present  moment  in  Paris,  where  he 
would  turn  his  immediate  attention  to  squaring  his 
account  with  me.  He  had  now  a  double  reason  for 
doing  this,  because  my  attempt  of  the  day  before 
would  have  shown  him  that  I  had  no  intention  of 
waiting  to  be  killed. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  First  of  all,  John 
must  be  warned  and  persuaded  to  get  out  of  Paris  at 
once.  I  dressed  hurriedly  and  went  around  to  the 
office,  where  I  found  a  note  from  Edith  saying  that 
he  was  ill  in  bed  and  asking  me  to  call  at  the  house 
at  noon  as  John  wished  to  have  a  talk  with  me,  and 
hoped  that  by  that  time  he  would  be  fit  for  an  inter 
view. 

There  was  nothing  in  particular  to  do  at  the  office, 
so  at  about  eleven  I  ran  down  to  the  Automobile 
Club,  hoping  to  find  our  client  of  the  day  before  and 
apologise  for  having  disappointed  him.  He  was  not 
in  the  lounge,  but  over  in  the  corner,  smoking  a  huge 
cigar,  I  saw  an  old  acquaintance.  This  was  none 
other  than  the  Baron  Isidor  Rosenthal,  of  Buda  Pest 
and  Hayti. 

Perhaps  you  know  Rosenthal.  Everybody  knows 
him.  No?  Well,  my  friend,  a  part  of  your  educa 
tion  has  been  lacking.  Rosenthal  is  a  big  brawny 
giant  of  a  Jew  who  has  amassed  an  enormous  for 
tune  in  all  sorts  of  adventurous  promoting  schemes, 
principally  in  the  financing  of  revolutions.  Some 
time  ago  he  was  created  a  Papal  Baron.  That 
sounds  funny  for  a  Jew,  but  Rosenthal  had  fairly 
earned  his  title  by  saving  the  lives  of  a  whole  com 
munity  of  Bulgarian  Christians  during  the  raid  of  a 


ROSENTHAL  145 

fanatical  Moslem  outfit  which  was  on  a  jehad,  or 
holy  war.  Rosenthal  had  stood  off  this  outfit  at 
the  cost  of  great  personal  danger  and  considerable 
financial  expense.  He  had  stopped  a  bullet  for  his 
pains,  but  this  had  not  stopped  Rosenthal.  The 
Vatican  had  made  him  a  baron  and  the  French 
had  created  him  an  officer  of  the  Legion  d'Hon- 
neur. 

Rosenthal  was  a  man  of  big  heart  and  big  ideas. 
I  had  known  him  quite  well  in  Buenos  Ayres,  and  he 
had  stood  my  friend  in  a  nasty  business  which  might 
otherwise  have  cost  me  dear.  This  he  had  done  out 
of  sheer  kind-heartedness  and  a  personal  liking  that 
he  had  conceived  for  me.  I  had  not  seen  him  since, 
so  I  crossed  the  room  to  pass  the  time  o'day. 

When  he  saw  me  his  big,  bushy  eyebrows  went  up 
with  surprise. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Baron?  "  I  said,  and  held  out 
my  hand. 

Rosenthal  flung  down  his  morning  paper  and, 
without  rising,  held  out  his  great,  hairy  paw. 

"  Py  Chingo,"  says  he,  "  it  is  Fr'rank.  Veil,  veil. 
And  how  do  you  do,  and  whom?  The  last  time  we 
met  vas  in  Buenos  Ayres.  And  how  haf  you  been, 
my  yoong  frendt?  " 

I  told  him  that  I  had  been  very  well  and  was  now 
in  the  motor-car  business. 

"Goot!"  says  he.  "That  is  a  better  business 
than  you  were  in  down  there  in  South  America." 
He  grinned.  "  I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  have 
taken  to  more  honest  vor'rk  —  alt'ough  the  last  man 
who  sold  me  a  car  vas  a  t'ief.  He  r'robbed  me  — 
oh,  my  fr'rendt  —  und  it  vas  not  der  last  time." 


i46  THE    CLOSING    NET 

His  big  sardonic  face  lengthened  and  he  gave  a  groan 
like  a  dying  horse.  "  I  have  been  r'robbed  again. 
It  is  terrible.  I  am  sick  from  it."  He  pulled  out 
a  handkerchief  and  mopped  his  face,  and  for  the 
moment  he  actually  looked  sick.  "  I  haf  been 
r'robbed  of  gems  vort'  twenty  t'ousand  pounds." 
"What!"  I  cried. 

'  Yes.  I  am  sick  from  it  —  very  sick.  I  cannot 
-eat  nor  dr'rink.  It  seems  there  is  an  epidemic  of 
r'robbery.  Yoost  now  I  r'read  in  der  paper  of  this 
dirty  Channel  business.  Mein  Gott!  " 

"  What!  "  I  cried  again.  "  Did  those  jewels  be 
long  to  you?  " 

"  Dose  jewels?  No.  But  I  haf  lost  some  of  my 
own  —  vort'  twenty  t'ousand  pounds";  he  brought 
the  figure  out  with  a  gasp.  "  Two  great  rubies  and 
an  emerald." 

There  are  times,  my  friend,  when  even  the  train 
ing  of  one's  whole  life  is  scarcely  enough  to  enable 
a  man  to  keep  his  face.  My  grip  tightened  on  the 
arms  of  the  big  leathern  chair  and  I  felt  the  blood 
leaving  my  face.  But  my  expression  exactly  coin 
cided  with  the  baron's  feelings,  and  he  did  not  notice 
anything  amiss. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  it  is  terrible,  is  it  not?  Efery 
year  ven  I  go  home  I  take  a  pr'resent  to  my  dear  vife 
in  Pest.  This  time  I  got  vat  I  have  been  long  look 
ing  for.  I  found  a  goot  bargain.  Nefer  haf  I 
seen  such  stones  in  pr'rivate  hands.  But  I  vas  a 
fool.  I  carried  t'em  about  in  my  pocket.  It  is  a 
bad  habit  of  mine.  Der  odder  day  I  vent  to  der 
races  und  dere  my  pocket  vas  picked.  It  is  that  vich 
so  hurts.  Isidor  Rosenthal  to  haf  his  pocket  picked 


ROSENTHAL  147 

like  any  fool  of  a  tourist  avay  from  home  for  der 
feerst  time." 

"  That  is  horrible,  Baron,"  said  I.  "  What  have 
you  done  about  it.  Notified  the  police?  " 

"  Yes.  Und  I  haf  had  descriptions  of  t'ose  gems 
sent  to  all  der  lapidaries.  But  I  haf  not  much  hope." 
And  he  mopped  his  big  satanic  face  again,  for  the 
thought  of  his  loss  brought  out  the  sweat. 

"  It  is  rough  on  Madame  la  Baronne,"  I  muttered. 

"  It's  awful.  But,  of  course,  she  vill  nefer  know. 
I  meant  to  gif  her  a  surprise.  Now  I  haf  bought 
somet'ing  else.  It  vas  der  best  I  could  do,  and  I 
found  anot'er  bargain.  Do  you  know  anyt'ing  about 
pearls?  Dese  are  very  fine." 

He  hauled  a  packet  from  an  inner  pocket,  opened 
it  and  laid  upon  the  little  table  —  Edith's  string  of 
pearls. 

Lord  o'  life !  but  two  such  shocks  in  ten  minutes 
are  bad  for  a  man !  It  ain't  good  for  his  heart. 
This  time  Rosenthal's  keen,  mottled  eyes  saw  the 
wild  look  in  my  face,  and  the  big,  bushy  eyebrows 
went  up  again. 

"  Vat's  der  matter?  "  he  asked. 

I  did  not  answer.  My  mouth  felt  dry.  To 
most  people  one  string  of  pearls  looks  very  like  an 
other,  but  to  an  expert  like  myself  they  have  as  much 
individual  expression  as  a  horse  to  a  racing  man, 
or  a  boat  to  a  sailor.  I  had  noticed  Edith's  pearls 
minutely,  and  the  moment  my  eyes  rested  on  them 
there  was  no  more  doubt  than  a  mother  has  when  she 
looks  into  the  face  of  her  babe. 

*  Veil?  "  inquired  Rosenthal,  "  you  don't  answer." 

"  I'm  too  much  jolted,"   said  I.      "  Baron,  that 


148  THE    CLOSING    NET 

string  of  pearls  was  stolen  two  nights  ago  from  the 
wife  of  my  half-brother,  Mrs.  Cuttynge." 

Rosenthal  pushed  himself  back  in  his  chair  and 
stared  at  me.  His  eyes,  which  were  of  a  light  hazel 
colour,  slightly  bulging  and  curiously  mottled  with 
dark-brown  spots,  opened  until  they  looked  like  the 
glass  ones  you  see  in  opticians.  His  tufty,  grizzled 
eyebrows  went  up,  and  his  jaw  dropped.  Then  he 
burst  into  his  big,  raucous  laugh. 

"What  is  this  you  are  singing  me?"  he  cried. 
"  But  no.  You  are  mistaken,  my  fr'rent.  Stolen 
pearls?  That  is  goot.  That  cannot  be.  I  bought 
t'em  from  a  man  I  haf  traded  wit'  for  many  years. 
He  is  a  careful  man.  He  knows  der  history  of  all 
he  buys." 

"  Nevertheless,  these  are  Mrs.  Cuttynge's  pearls," 
I  answered.  "  I  am  a  bit  of  a  connoisseur  myself, 
and  I  sat  for  three  hours  behind  these  at  the  opera. 
There  can  be  no  doubt.  They  were  stolen  the  night 
before  last.  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  am  in  some  meas 
ure  suspected  of  the  theft." 

Rosenthal  stared  for  an  instant,  then  burst  out: 

"  Py  Chingo,  but  ve  vill  soon  know."  He  gath 
ered  up  the  pearls,  wrapped  them  hastily  in  the  cot 
ton  and  paper,  and  shoved  them  into  his  pocket. 

"  Come,  my  fr'rendt,"  says  he;  "  ve  vill  yoomp  in 
a  taxi  and  go  right  down.  Py  Chingo,  vas  efery- 
body  stealing  jewels?  Come!  " 

So  out  we  went.  It  didn't  take  us  long  to  get 
down  to  the  place  where  Rosenthal  had  bought  the 
pearls.  The  house  was  a  buyer  and  seller  of  pre 
cious  stones,  he  told  me,  and  had  been  established 
for  over  fifty  years. 


ROSENTHAL  149 

"  It  is  impossible,"  said  the  baron,  "  that  this 
man  vould  buy  pearls  he  did  not  know  all  about.  I 
haf  been  a  good  client  for  fery  many  years." 

Rosenthal  was  a  connoisseur  of  jewels,  and  usually 
had  a  few  gems  sprinkled  about  his  person.  I  had 
heard  it  said  in  Buenos  Ayres  that  the  big  Jew  was 
usually  to  be  found  about  the  gambling  places  with 
hard  cash  to  pay  for  a  ring  or  scarf-pin  in  case  any 
unfortunate  gambler  wanted  to  get  the  price  to  con 
tinue  the  game.  This  was  a  sort  of  fad  of  Rosen- 
thal's,  and  when  he  found  anything  particularly  fine 
it  usually  went  to  add  to  the  collection  of  his  wife  in 
Buda  Pest. 

"  Here  ve  are,"  said  the  baron,  and  flung  open  the 
door  of  the  taxi. 

The  shop  was  quiet  and  unassuming,  and  unlike 
the  pretentious  places  on  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  with 
scarcely  any  of  its  wares  in  evidence.  The  pro 
prietor,  a  middle-aged  man  of  genteel  appearance, 
came  forward  from  a  room  in  the  rear,  and  on  catch 
ing  sight  of  Rosenthal,  smiled  affably. 

"  Bon  jour,  M.  le  Baron,"  he  began,  then  shot  a 
look  at  me.  His  smile  vanished,  and  in  its  place 
there  came  an  expression  that  was  more  like  fright 
than  anything  else. 

"  Bon  jour,  M.  Cuttynge,"  says  he,  nervously. 

Rosenthal  gave  me  a  swift  look.  As  for  my  part, 
let  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  of  the  series  of  jolts 
I  had  received  in  the  last  forty-eight  hours,  that 
"  M.  Cuttynge "  was  perhaps  the  hardest  to  sit 
tight  under. 

Rosenthal,  keen-witted  old  adventurer  that  he 
was,  had  not  missed  the  dealer's  frightened  look  and 


150  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  "  M.  Cuttynge."  What  he  thought  I  could  not 
guess.  But  he  went  ahead  warily. 

"  About  those  pearls  you  sold  me  this  morning, 
my  dear  Delmas,"  said  he,  in  his  harsh  voice. 

The  man's  nervousness  increased.  He  glanced  at 
me. 

"  Will  you  give  yourselves  the  trouble  to  enter 
my  private  room,"  says  he,  and  led  the  way  into  a 
sort  of  office,  richly  furnished  in  Louis  XIV.  In 
the  centre  stood  a  heavy  table  with  a  few  chairs  about 
it,  and  a  studio  window  let  in  the  light  from  over 
head.  There  were  a  couple  of  large  hand-lenses 
and  some  different  coloured  stuffs  against  which  to 
show  the  jewels. 

As  we  entered  the  room  Rosenthal  gave  me  a  bit 
of  a  nudge,  which  I  took  to  mean  that  I  was  to  leave 
the  talking  to  him.  We  seated  ourselves  —  the 
Baron  and  I  on  one  side  of  the  table,  the  dealer  op 
posite  us. 

"  About  this  little  purchase  of  mine,"  said  Rosen- 
thai,  taking  out  the  pearls  and  laying  them  on  the 
table.  "  My  friend  is  not  quite  content.  He  is  in 
clined  to  doubt  your  right  to  sell  them." 

The  dealer  looked  very  much  upset. 

"  Mr.  Cuttynge  is  right,"  said  he,  in  an  agitated 
voice.  We  were  speaking  in  French.  "  It  is  true 
that  when  he  sold  me  the  pearls  it  was  understood 
between  us  that  I  was  not  to  sell  them  for  a  year. 
I  also  assured  M.  Cuttynge  that  I  would  not  sell 
the  string  exactly  as  it  was  when  worn  by  Madame 
Cuttynge,  but  would  make  certain  substitutions  which 
should  render  it  impossible  to  recognise  the  string. 
I  am  overwhelmed  with  regret  and  remorse." 


ROSENTHAL  151 

Rosenthal  turned  to  me.  There  was  a  curious, 
baffled  look  in  his  mottled  eyes,  but  he  said  noth 
ing.  I  also  remained  silent.  The  dealer  looked 
from  one  to  the  other  of  us  with  a  pale,  agi 
tated  face. 

"  Of  course,"  said  he,  "  when  a  lady  is  unfor 
tunately  compelled  to  part  with  her  jewels,  she  does 
not  care  to  have  them  recognised  elsewhere.  I  quite 
understood  this,  and  although  I  bought  the  pearls 
outright,  I  had  no  intention  of  not  keeping  my 
verbal  agreement.  But  when  I  came  to  make  the 
substitution,  I  found  that  I  had  nothing  available 
with  which  to  replace  a  few  of  the  larger  pearls, 
which  are  uncommonly  fine.  Nevertheless,  I  should 
have  held  strictly  to  my  word  had  the  purchaser  been 
any  other  than  Baron  Rosenthal."  He  turned  to 
me  with  a  look  of  entreaty.  "  M.  le  Baron,"  said 
he,  "  is  one  of  my  most  valued  customers.  When 
he  assured  me  that  the  rope  was  for  his  wife  and 
that  he  was  leaving  to-night  for  Buda  Pest,  I  was  so 
weak  as  to  sell  the  string  as  it  was.  It  was  very 
wrong  of  me  and  I  am  desolated.  If  there  is  any 
thing  that  I  can  do  in  the  way  of  making  amends, 
rest  assured,  M.  Cuttynge,  I  will  do  it,  even  at  a 
considerable  personal  sacrifice." 

He  paused  and  took  out  his  handkerchief. 
Rosenthal  sat  heavy  and  immobile.  I  said 
nothing,  but  drummed  on  the  table  with  my  fin 
gers. 

The  dealer  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  us.. 
Being  French,  he  did  not  wait  for  us  to  speak,  feel 
ing,  perhaps,  that  it  would  only  be  to  hear  something; 
disagreeable. 


iS2  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  I  assure  you,  Messieurs,"  said  he,  "  this  is  the 
first  time  that  I  have  ever  allowed  myself  to  be 
placed  in  so  embarrassing  a  position." 

Rosenthal  threw  me  a  swift  look.  I  gave  my 
shoulders  a  slight  shrug.  My  friend,  although  I 
looked  impassive  enough,  I  was  all  in  a  turmoil. 
So  John  was  the  thief.  John  had  stolen  his  wife's 
pearls,  brought  them  to  this  man  Delmas,  and  sold 
them  outright  on  Delmas'  verbal  agreement  that  he 
would  not  dispose  of  them  for  twelve  months,  and 
then  only  after  making  such  changes  as  would  render 
it  impossible  to  recognise  the  string. 

As  this  went  through  my  head,  the  first  emotion 
was  a  hot,  furious  rage  against  my  thieving  sot  of  a 
half-brother.  It  was  for  this  that  I  had  bearded 
Ivan  in  his  den  and  tried  to  assassinate  Chu-Chu. 
It  was  for  this  that  my  life  must  hang  in  the  bal 
ance  until  I  should  either  kill  or  be  killed.  Now 
that  I  knew  I  wanted  to  get  out  of  the  place  and 
mentally  digest  the  situation. 

The  dealer  saw  the  blood  surging  into  my  face. 
Perhaps  he  saw  the  fury  behind  my  eyes,  for  he 
began  to  renew  his  apologies  and  regrets  and  offers 
to  make  what  amends  he  could  for  having  broken 
his  given  word.  I  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  a  fairly 
honest  man.  But  he  had  lacked  the  force  to  resist 
Rosenthal's  insistence.  He  reasoned  that  since  he 
had  bought  the  pearls  outright  and  was  under  no 
written  bond,  and  as  the  pearls  were  going  to  Buda 
Pest  to  adorn  the  large  person  of  such  a  be-jewelled 
woman  as  he  knew  the  Baroness  Rosenthal  to  be, 
their  non-recognition  would  be  practically  assured. 
John,  I  thought,  had  probably  sold  the  pearls  out- 


ROSENTHAL  153 

right  because  he  was  in  need  of  every  bit  of  money 
that  he  could  get. 

As  for  Rosenthal,  he  had  been  quick  to  appreciate 
the  perfection  of  the  string  and  had  no  doubt  made 
Delmas  a  good  offer.  With  a  profit  of  perhaps  ten 
or  twenty  thousand  francs  before  his  eyes,  and  being 
bound  only  by  his  verbal  agreement,  the  dealer  had 
decided  to  take  a  chance. 

The  Baron  had  pushed  back  his  chair  and  was 
staring  up  at  the  ceiling.  The  big  Jew  was  sadly 
puzzled.  Knowing  nothing  of  the  striking  resem 
blance  between  John  and  myself,  he  had  no  solution 
to  the  mystery.  There  was  no  way  of  his  guessing 
that  the  dealer  had  taken  me  for  Mr.  Cuttynge,  and 
Rosenthal  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  it  was 
that  when  I  had  apparently  stolen  the  jewels  and 
then  sold  them,  as  "  Mr.  Cuttynge,"  I  should  lug 
him  down  there  to  row  the  dealer.  But  he  felt  that 
there  was  something  behind  it  all,  so  he  merely 
sat  tight  and  kept  his  mouth  shut  and  waited  for  the 
mystery  to  clear. 

There  was  nothing  I  cared  to  say  to  the  dealer 
just  then,  so  I  merely  remarked:  "Well,  M.  Del 
mas,  as  you  say,  you  have  not  acted  properly  in  this 
matter.  A  man  with  such  a  reputation  as  yours 
ought  to  stick  to  his  word.  It  is  because  of  that 
reputation  that  the  people  having  business  with  you 
do  not  demand  written  agreements.  I  must  think 
over  this  affair.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  since  you 
bought  the  pearls  certain  events  have  occurred  which 
would  enable  Mrs.  Cuttynge  to  buy  them  back.  It 
is  possible  that  Baron  Rosenthal  and  I  may  be  able 
to  arrange  the  matter  between  ourselves." 


i54  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  In  that  case,"  said  the  dealer,  eagerly,  "  you 
may  count  upon  me  to  forego  my  own  profit  in  the 
transaction." 

'  That  is  all  that  one  could  ask,"  I  answered, 
"  and  your  offer  is  accepted  in  the  same  spirit  as  are 
your  apologies.  We  will  inform  you  later  as  to  the 
upshot  of  the  affair." 

I  arose.  The  Baron  followed  my  example,  and 
with  M.  Delmas  still  pattering  his  apologies  behind 
us,  we  went  out  and  got  into  our  taxi.  I  told  the 
chauffeur  to  go  first  to  my  office. 

As  soon  as  we  were  seated,  Rosenthal  broke  into 
his  harsh,  discordant  laugh. 

"  Herr  Gott !  "  he  rumbled,  "I  am  not  a  fool, 
but  belief  me,  I  can  make  neither  head  nor  tail  of 
this  affair." 

"  It  will  become  more  clear,"  said  I,  "  when  I  tell 
you  that  Mr.  Cuttynge  is  my  half-brother,  and 
that  we  are  almost  as  alike,  outwardly,  as  a  pair  of 
twins." 

For  a  moment  he  stared.  Then  I  saw  the  light 
of  understanding  glow  out  of  his  mottled  eyes.  He 
burst  again  into  his  great,  harsh  laugh. 

"  Py  Chingo,"  says  he,  "  Vat  a  business  —  vat  a 
business.  It  vas  this  man  Cuttynge  that  stole  his 
vife's  pearls.  Himmel." 

For  a  while  he  chewed  on  this  idea  in  silence. 
Presently  he  said: 

"  Fere  ve  going  now?  " 

"  We  will  pass  my  office,"  said  I,  "  and  then  re 
turn  to  the  Club.  There  is  a  lot  I  want  to  say  to 
you,  and  a  taxi  is  no  place  to  talk.  Can  you  give 
me  an  interview,  my  dear  Baron?" 


ROSENTHAL  155 

"  Sure,"  said  he,  and  lighted  a  big  cigar. 

When  we  reached  the  office  I  scribbled  a  brief 
note  to  John,  saying  that  I  was  engaged  but  would 
get  in  to  see  him  at  three.  Then,  going  to  our  little 
safe,  I  got  Rosenthal's  gems  and  dropped  them  into 
my  pocket. 

We  spun  back  to  the  Club,  neither  of  us  saying 
more  than  commonplaces  on  the  way.  I  paid  off  the 
cab  and  sent  the  note  to  John  by  one  of  the  Club's 
chasseurs.  It  was  then  about  one  o'clock,  and 
Rosenthal  asked  me  to  lunch  with  him,  suggesting 
that  we  have  our  talk  afterward.  Knowing  him 
for  a  man  who  took  the  care  of  his  body  as  se 
riously  in  civilisation  as  he  did  lightly  when  on 
the  trail,  I  agreed,  and  we  spent  a  pleasant 
hour  over  our  dejeuner,  talking  of  various  un 
important  things.  The  repast  over,  the  Baron 
said: 

"  I  am  putting  up  in  this  place.  Come  up  to 
my  r'rooms.  There  ve  may  talk  in  no  danger  of 
disturbance." 

So  up  we  went,  and  when  we  had  settled  ourselves 
and  Rosenthal  had  set  fire  to  the  end  of  one  of  his 
mainyard  cigars,  I  said: 

"  Now,  my  dear  Baron,  you  are  going  to  get  the 
surprise  of  your  life.  So  prepare  yourself  for  a 
jolt." 

His  eyes  flashed  at  mine  and  I  saw  the  big  muscles 
of  jaw  and  temple  harden. 

"Veil?"  says  he,  harshly,  and  rolled  his  huge 
cigar  between  his  lips. 

I  reached  in  my  pocket,  drew  out  the  packet  which 
contained  his  gems,  unfolded  the  paper  and  held  out 


156  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  him  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand  his  two  great  rubies 
and  the  emerald. 

"  Here  you  are,"  said  I.  "  Don't  ever  say  again 
that  a  kind  act  does  not  meet  with  its  reward  —  not 
but  what  I'd  given  them  to  you,  anyway,"  said  I. 

Rosenthal  froze  into  a  colossus  in  stone.  The 
rosy,  after-eating  glow  faded  from  his  face,  leaving 
it  an  ivory  yellow.  The  big,  bushy  eyebrows  went 
up  at  least  three  inches  and  he  cocked  his 
head  to  one  side,  while  the  staring,  mottled 
eyes  bulged  at  the  gems.  Then,  back  came  the 
colour  into  the  big,  heavy-lined  face.  His  thick 
tongue  wagged  like  the  tongue  of  a  parrot,  but  only 
gurgles  came.  He  reached  for  the  cognac  which 
had  been  served  with  our  coffee  and  took  a  gulp 
straight  from  the  decanter. 

"  Sapristi!  "  he  rumbled,  "  sapristl!  " 

Suddenly  he  reached  for  the  stones  and  turned 
them  lovingly  in  his  huge  hand. 

"  It  is  too  much,"  he  muttered.  "  It  is  a  leetle 
too  mooch  for  Isidor  Rosenthal." 

"  When  you  have  recovered  from  your  shock, 
Baron,"  said  I,  "  let  me  tell  you  a  story." 

"  Go  on,"  he  growled.  "  Dis  is  not  the  kind  of  a 
shock  to  injure  the  health'.  I  am  mooch  more 
knocked  aback  dan  ven  I  lost  der  stones,  but  I  am 
not  at  all  sick."  He  gave  a  ferocious  grin. 

"  One  usually  looks  to  be  robbed,"  said  I,  "  but 
you  don't  often  think  of  restitution." 

"  No,"  says  he.      "  Now  let  us  haf  der  story." 

So  without  any  more  preliminary  I  started  in  and 
gave  him  the  whole  yarn  from  the  very  start,  holding 
back  neither  facts  nor  names.  Rosenthal  leaned 


ROSENTHAL  157 

back  in  his  big  chair  and  rolled  the  huge  cigar  in  his 
thick  lips  and  listened,  giving  me  now  and  again  a 
quick  glance  from  his  keen  eyes,  which  were  almost 
hid  under  the  down-drawn  bushy  eyebrows  and  folds 
of  leathery  skin. 

Only  at  the  start  did  he  make  the  slightest  sign  of 
emotion,  and  that  was  when  I  told  him  frankly  that 
I  was  an  ex-cracksman.  This  information  he  re 
ceived  with  a  sudden  opening  of  his  eyes,  then  closing 
them  again.  Rosenthal  had  previously  regarded  me 
as  a  sort  of  gentleman  adventurer,  not  over-scrupu 
lous,  perhaps,  in  the  matter  of  business,  but  a  gentle 
man  born,  well-bred,  and  not  fudamentally  dishonest. 
He  himself  was  absolutely  honest  in  his  personal  af 
fairs,  but  had  a  wide  margin  of  ethics  when  it  came 
to  a  really  big  commercial  deal.  His  world-wide  rep 
utation  was  that  a  man  would  be  safe  in  placing  any 
amount  of  cold  cash  in  his  hands  without  asking  for  a 
receipt,  but  if  anybody  sat  in  a  game  of  high  finance 
with  him,  he  needed  to  play  mighty  close  to  his  belt. 
Rosenthal  would  plunder  the  coffers  of  a  country  with 
the  same  ruthlessness  that  a  cracksman  would  go 
through  a  safe.  I  remarked  a  little  while  ago  that 
for  men  there  were  no  half-measures  of  honesty; 
that  a  man  was  either  honest  or  dishonest.  Per 
haps  I  should  amend  that  statement  by  adding,  "  with 
himself."  Rosenthal  was  absolutely  honest  with 
himself.  He  had  his  own  peculiar  code  and  he  was 
true  to  it.  Moreover,  the  Jew  was  a  big  man  and 
a  man  of  heart.  He  was  generous  and  liberal,  and 
his  motto  was,  "  live  and  let  live."  I  knew  that  my 
story  was  as  safe  with  him  as  though  sealed  in  a 
leaden  casket  and  dropped  into  the  sea. 


158  THE    CLOSING    NET 

So  I  told  him  everything,  talking  slowly  and  with 
care,  while  Rosenthal  leaned  back  and  smoked  and 
listened  without  interrupting  the  narrative  by  so 
much  as  a  "  Sapristi."  When  I  had  finished,  he  sat 
for  several  minutes  in  silence,  blowing  the  smoke 
from  his  thick  lips. 

Suddenly  he  leaned  over  and  laid  his  hand  on  my 
knee. 

"  My  fr'riendt,"  says  he,  "  this  is  a  wicked  vorld, 
and  there  are  many  wicked  people  in  it.  But  there 
are  some  good  ones,  too.  As  a  man  gets  older  he 
appreciates  these.  There  are  not  so  many  people 
whom  I  am  proud  to  know.  I  could  count  t'em 
on  the  fingers  of  von  hand,  and  haf  left  der 
thumb.  Dr.  Leyden  is  von,  and  Mallock  is  von, 
und  dere  is  anodder  now  in  pr'rison,  serving  a  life 
sentence  for  a  fr'riendt.  You  also  are  von,  und 
if  you  efer  need  a  fr'riendt,  call  on  Isidor  Rosen- 
thai." 

'  Thank  you,  Baron,"  said  I.  "  One  always 
needs  a  good  friend.  I  am  going  to  take  you  at  your 
word.  Now  listen :  John  Cuttynge  must  redeem 
those  pearls.  His  wife  must  never  know  what  he 
has  done.  It  would  kill  her.  I  don't  know  how  he 
stands  financially;  pretty  badly,  I  suppose,  or  he 
would  never  have  stolen  the  pearls.  Now,  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  to  turn  over  those  pearls  to  me,  tak 
ing  my  note  for  what  you  paid  and  letting  us  pay  it 
off  as  we  are  able." 

Rosenthal  struck  his  big  chest  a  thump  with  his 
fist. 

"  I  vill  do  it,"  says  he.  "  Und  I  vill  char'rge  you 
no  interest.  Besides,  you  are  entitled  to  a  reward 


ROSENTHAL  159 

for  getting  me  my  rubies  und  emerald.  I  vill  figure 
that  in." 

I  thanked  him  again.  Rosenthal  knit  his  big 
brows. 

"  Your  life  is  in  gr'reat  danger,"  he  said. 

"  It  sure  is,"  I  answered.      "  So  is  Chu-Chu's." 

He  raised  his  brows.  "  You  intend  to  kill  him?  " 
he  asked. 

"  I  intend  to  try." 

He  nodded.  "  Dere  is  not'ing  else  to  do,"  says 
he.  "  How  about  dis  Ivan  und  his  gang?  " 

"  Ivan  will  stand  pat,  I  think,"  said  I.  "  To  tell 
the  truth,  he  would  probably  be  quite  content  to  have 
Chu-Chu  removed.  Between  you  and  me,  I  think 
that  Ivan  is  afraid  of  him.  A  man  like  that  is  a 
constant  source  of  danger  to  the  organisation.  I 
am  going  to  see  Ivan  and  tell  him  how  things  stand 
and  ask  him  to  keep  out  of  it." 

Rosenthal  looked  at  me,  thoughtfully. 

"  Py  Chingo,"  says  he,  "  I  belief  you  are  r' right." 
He  poured  himself  another  glass  of  cognac.  "  Herr 
Gott!  vat  a  vorld!  vat  a  vorld!  " 

I  got  up  out  of  my  chair.  Rosenthal  stared  at  me 
for  a  moment,  then  reached  in  his  pocket,  drew  out 
the  package  containing  the  pearls  and  tossed  it  to 
me. 

'  Tell  your  haf-brudder  to  come  and  see  me,"  he 
said.  "  I  vill  gif  him  some  advice.  You  are  a  goot 
boy,  Fr'rank." 

I  thanked  him  and  took  the  pearls.  We  shook 
hands. 

"  And  now,"  said  I,  "  for  a  bad  quarter-hour  with 
Mr.  Cuttynge." 


CHAPTER  XI 

AN    HEROIC    LIE 

IT  was  by  this  time  almost  three  o'clock,  so  I  went 
immediately  down  to  John's  house.  As  I  was  wait 
ing  in  the  ante-chambre  for  the  mditre  d'hotel  to  an 
nounce  me,  Miss  Dalghren  came  out  of  the  library. 
I  bowed  and  she  gave  me  a  cold  nod. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  learn,  Miss  Dalghren,"  said 
I,  "  that  I  have  recovered  Mrs.  Cuttynge's  pearls. 
They  are  in  my  pocket." 

The  colour  flamed  in  her  face. 

"  I  thought  that  you  would,"  she  answered. 

11  Permit  me  to  suggest,"  said  I,  "  that  hereafter 
both  of  you  ladies  keep  your  jewels  in  a  safe  place  — 
where  they  will  not  be  a  temptation  to  weak  vessels 
like  myself." 

Her  face  hardened.  "  Mine  are  now  in  the  safe 
deposit,"  says  she,  "  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  John 
will  do  the  same  with  Edith's,"  and  without  so  much 
as  a  nod  she  passed  on  through  the  dining-room  por 
tieres. 

The  maitre  d'hotel  returned  at  this  moment  to  ask 
me  to  go  right  up.  I  found  John  in  bed.  He 
looked  very  badly. 

"  Shut  the  door  and  lock  it,  Frank,"  said  he,  in  a 
querulous  voice.  "  Pull  up  a  chair  by  the  bed.  I 
want  to  talk  to  you." 

I  did  as  he  directed.  As  soon  as  I  was  seated 
John  turned  to  me,  raising  himself  on  one  elbow. 

160 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  161 

His  face  was  ghastly  and  his  lips  trembled  before  he 
spoke. 

;'  Frank,"  says  he,  "  it  was  I  who  stole  Edith's 
pearls." 

"  I  know  it,"  I  answered. 

His  eyes  got  wild.  "  What?  "  he  cried.  "  How 
—  how  —  does  anybody  else  know  it?  How  did 
you  find  out?  " 

"  Lie  down,"  said  I,  "  and  keep  quiet.  I'll  give 
you  the  whole  yarn." 

John  sank  back  against  his  pillows  with  a  groan.  I 
started  in  with  the  story,  telling  him  everything  except 
the  names  of  Leontine  and  Ivan.  Before  I  had  fin 
ished,  John's  face  changed  for  the  better.  The  dull 
look  had  gone  out  of  his  eyes  and  they  had  grown 
hard  and  bright.  There  was  a  tinge  of  colour  in 
his  cheeks  and  his  jaw  was  set.  When  I  had  fin 
ished  he  reached  out  one  hand  and  gave  me  a  grip 
that  hurt. 

"  My  word !  "  he  muttered,  "  what  a  man  you 
are,"  and  added  a  lot  of  truck  unnecessary  to  re 
peat.  For  several  minutes  he  lay  there,  soaking  in 
what  I  had  told  him.  Then  says  he: 

'  You  must  get  out  of  the  country  right  off,  Frank. 
Your  life  is  in  danger  every  minute  here." 

"  I'm  leaving  this  evening,"  said  I,  for  I  had  de 
cided  not  to  tell  him  about  my  plan  for  stalking  Chu- 
Chu.  If  anything  were  to  go  wrong  he  would  al 
ways  look  upon  himself  as  my  murderer.  "  You 
must  clear  out  for  awhile  yourself,  John.  We  look 
too  much  alike  for  your  safety." 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  I'll  stop  here  " ;  and  his  jaw  stiff 
ened  again. 


162  THE    CLOSING    NET 

I  did  my  best  to  persuade  him  to  go,  if  only  for 
the  sake  of  Edith,  but  he  was  set  as  solid  as  the  pyra 
mid  of  Cheops. 

"  I've  brought  all  of  this  mess  on  both  of  us," 
says  he.  "  I'll  take  the  consequences.  Besides,  this 
thug  knows  about  me  and  won't  run  any  unnecessary 
bother  and  risk.  I'm  in  no  great  danger." 

Well,  sir,  there  was  no  budging  him,  and  that 
made  me  all  the  more  impatient  to  get  on  the  war 
path  after  Chu-Chu.  It  was  now  not  only  a  meas 
ure  of  self-preservation,  but  an  imperative  duty. 

Finally,  says  John,  in  a  dull  voice: 

"  Edith  must  know  the  truth." 

"  Edith  must  know  nothing  of  the  sort,"  I  cried 
fiercely.  "  Man,  it  would  kill  her  —  and  you  know 
it." 

A  shiver  went  through  John.  "  I  owe  it  to 
you  — "  he  began. 

"  You  owe  nothing  to  me,"  said  I.  "  You  saved 
me  a  life  sentence.  We  are  quits  with  each  other 
—  but  we  both  owe  everything  to  Edith.  Besides, 
what's  the  use?  She  doesn't  suspect  me." 

"  She  does  now,"  said  John,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"  What?  "  I  cried.      "  She  does?     Since  when?  " 

"  Since  this  morning.  Mary  Dalghren  saw  me 
slipping  out  of  the  house  just  after  I  stole  the  pearls. 
She  came  over  from  the  studio  to  get  something  in 
the  house.  She  took  me  for  you.  When  I  came  in 
at  three  of  the  morning  she  was  waiting  up.  She 
told  me  what  she  had  seen  and  I  begged  her  to  say 
nothing  about  it  to  Edith.  But  this  morning  she 
told  her.  I  couldn't  stand  that.  I  thought  that 
they  would  lay  the  robbery  to  your  old  gang,  not  to 
you." 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  163 

I  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window.  Chu-Chu, 
John,  the  danger  to  my  life  —  all  of  this  was  noth 
ing.  Edith  thought  that  I  had  broken  my  word  to 
her.  Edith  thought  that  I  had  stolen  her  pearls. 

My  friend,  have  you  ever  been  tempted?  Not 
tempted  by  gold,  or  a  woman  or  the  lust  for  revenge 
—  but  by  something  that  is  far  deeper  than  life  or 
death,  or  the  hope  of  heaven?  Have  you  ever  been 
tempted  until  your  very  soul  is  wrung  and  tortured 
and  screaming  in  pain?  Mere  death  is  a  joke  to  this; 
the  love  of  life  is  the  longing  of  a  child  for  a  stick 
of  candy  in  comparison.  Edith  to  lose  faith  in  me? 
The  idea  wrenched  a  groan  from  the  very  core  of 
my  whole  conscious  being.  It  was  too  much.  Had 
I  not  done  my  part?  Played  the  game  honestly  and 
fair? 

But  hot  on  the  heels  of  this  rank  selfishness  came 
the  thought  of  Edith.  It  was  of  Edith  that  I  must 
think.  It  was  for  Edith  that  I  must  suffer — and 
the  knowledge  that  I  might  bear  her  burden  of  sor 
row  and  shame  took  away  all  of  the  sting.  Edith 
loved  John.  In  John  lay  her  whole  life's  happiness. 
Edith  could  not  live  in  the  knowledge  that  her  hus 
band  had  been  tempted  to  theft  and  had  succumbed. 
As  for  myself,  her  faith  in  me  and  in  the  goodness 
of  mankind  would  suffer  to  the  point  of  causing  her 
infinite  pain,  but  this  pain  would  be  an  abstract 
quality.  It  would  be  a  wound  from  which  she  would 
recover.  But  to  feel  that  her  loved  husband  had 
stolen,  had  committed  the  meanest  of  thefts  rather 
than  to  come  to  her  in  his  trouble,  would  be  a  stiletto 
through  her  pure  heart. 

I  drew  a  deep  breath,  then  turned  and  went  back 
to  John's  bedside.  He  was  lying  face  downward, 


1 64  THE    CLOSING   NET 

his  head  in  his  strong  arms.  Sitting  at  his  side  I 
told  him,  very  gently,  the  thing  as  I  saw  it. 

"  We  must  think  of  Edith,  old  chap,"  said  I.  "  It 
is  hard  for  us  both  —  but  we  are  men." 

'  You  are,"  he  moaned. 

"  And  so  must  you  be,"  I  answered. 

He  writhed  as  he  lay.  "  My  God,  my  God!  "  he 
moaned.  ;'  What  a  fool!  what  a  fool!  It  was  my 
only  way  out,  Frank.  I  was  cornered,  trapped,  half 
mad  and  half  drunk.  I  was  carrying  a  lot  of  stock 
and  was  knocked  galleywest  in  this  flurry.  Another 
day  and  I  would  have  been  all  right.  My  brokers 
were  howling  like  wolves  for  margin.  I  tried  to  get 
it  over  the  baccarat  table  —  and  lost.  To  have  got 
sold  out  would  have  meant  ruin.  And  it  was  Edith's 
money.  The  sale  of  the  pearls  was  barely  enough  to 
tide  me  over.  I  sold  them  outright  to  get  more 
money  and  because  I  did  not  see  how  I  could  restore 
them  —  what  story  I  could  tell.  I  have  just  had  a 
telegram;  the  market  is  up  again." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  said  I,  briskly.  "  Now  set 
tle  up,  John.  Sell  out,  then  settle  with  Rosenthal. 
Don't  bother  about  my  part  of  it.  Think  of  the 
debt  I  owe  to  Edith.  I  ought  to  welcome  the  chance 
of  squaring  it.  It  will  hurt  her  to  think  that  I  broke 
rny  word  —  but  I  can  say  something  to  cheer  her. 
I  will  let  her  think  that  I  am  morally  lacking  —  con 
stitutionally  wrong.  Brace  up,  old  man." 

I  talked  to  him  for  half  an  hour.  Finally,  I 
said: 

"  See  here,  John,  I'm  not  going  to  let  you  off 
scot-free.  I  want  a  promise  from  you.  If  you  will 
give  it,  I'll  be  actually  glad  of  the  whole  business." 


'WHAT      IF     I     WERE     TO     TELL     YOU     THAT 
YOU  WERE  TALKING  TO  A  CROOK?" 

218) 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  165 

John  raised  his  head.     "  Well?  "  he  asked. 

I  leaned  over  and  laid  my  hands  on  his  shoulder. 

'  You  are  to  promise  me  to  chuck  drinking  and 
gambling,  John.  No  more  spirits  —  not  a  drop. 
And  nothing  bigger  than  a  game  of  bridge  —  or 
schoolboy  poker.  Is  it  a  go?  " 

He  choked  back  a  sob.  "  I'll  pledge  my  word, 
Frank,"  he  said. 

"  Shake,"  said  I.     He  shoved  out  his  hand. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  let  me  say  a  few  words  to  Edith 
and  then  I'm  off." 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked. 

"  To  get  under  cover  somewhere.  I  haven't  de 
cided." 

"  How  are  you  off  for  money?  " 

"  I've  got  enough.  If  I  need  more  I  may  write 
to  you." 

John  raised  up  in  his  bed.  His  eyes  were  shining 
through  his  tears.  He  said  a  good  many  things 
that  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  yarn.  Finally  he 
said: 

"  Look  here,  Frank,  why  not  hand  over  all  of  this 
to  the  police?  " 

"  I've  thought  of  that,"  I  answered.  "  It 
wouldn't  do.  I'd  get  the  enmity  of  a  powerful  crim 
inal  organisation  and  wouldn't  live  twenty-four 
hours.  But  there  are  other  ways.  I  know  the 
Under-World  and  its  antidotes.  There  are  unof 
ficial  means  of  checkmating  this  desperado  —  a  se 
cret  service.  There  is  no  time  to  explain,  as  I've  got 
a  lot  to  do.  But  I  hope  to  have  this  Chu-Chu  per 
son  checkmated  before  many  days.  You  leave  it  to 
me.  But  remember  one  thing;  if  Edith  ever  gets  a 


i66  THE    CLOSING    NET 

suspicion  of  the  true  facts,  all  of  my  work  and  danger 
go  for  nothing.  You  understand." 

"  I  understand,"  he  said,  and  the  tears  gushed 
out  of  his  eyes. 

I  gave  his  hand  a  grip  and  went  out. 

I  walked  to  Edith's  door  and  rapped.  There  was 
no  time  to  fuss  with  being  announced.  I  meant  to 
see  her,  whether  she  wished  it  or  not. 

"  It  is  Frank  Clamart,"  I  said,  for  I  heard  a  rustle 
within. 

"  Come  in,  Frank,"  said  a  low,  sweet  voice.  I 
entered.  Edith  was  lying  as  I  had  seen  her  last,  on 
the  chaise  longue  by  the  open  window.  She  was 
very  pale  and  her  eyes  were  like  great  jewels. 

"  I  have  brought  back  your  pearls,"  I  said,  and 
laid  them  on  the  table. 

"  Thank  you,  Frank." 

"  I  stole  them,"  said  I,  looking  at  the  floor. 

"Why  did  you  do  that,  Frank?  "  she  asked,  and 
her  rich  voice  quivered  the  faintest  trifle. 

"  You  wouldn't  understand,"  I  muttered.  "  It's 
in  the  blood,  I  guess.  They  haunted  me." 

"  But  you  have  brought  them  back,"  said  Edith, 
in  a  tremulous  voice.  I  felt  her  eyes  burning  into 
me  and  did  not  dare  look  up. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  and  tried  to  put  bitterness  in  my 
tone.  "  I  brought  them  back  —  when  I  learned  that 
I  had  been  detected." 

Edith  caught  her  breath.  "  Look  at  me,  Frank," 
she  cried. 

I  raised  guilty  eyes  —  just  for  a  second,  then  let 
them  fall  again.  Edith  burst  into  a  storm  of  weep 
ing. 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  167 

"Frank,  Frank,"  she  cried.  "Try  again — try 
again." 

I  couldn't  stand  it.  "  Good-bye."  I  choked, 
and  turned  to  the  door.  On  the  stairs  I  met  Miss 
Dalghren.  She  drew  her  skirts  aside  as  I  passed. 

Out  of  the  house  I  rushed  and  hurried  up  to  the 
office.  I  seemed  to  see  Chu-Chu  in  every  face  I 
passed,  and  I  hungered  for  him.  Arrived  at  the 
office  I  wrote  a  note  to  Ivan,  asking  him  to  come  at 
once  to  my  address  on  a  matter  of  the  most  vital  im 
portance.  This  I  sent  around  to  his  house  by  a  taxi, 
telling  the  driver  to  bring  back  an  answer. 

Half  an  hour  later  Ivan  arrived.  He  smiled 
when  he  saw  me  and  followed  me  into  the  private 
room  without  the  slightest  hesitation.  When  we 
were  seated,  I  said: 

"  Count,  before  I  go  on  permit  me  to  apologise  for 
two  things.  The  first  is  for  having  made  a  scene 
the  other  day  in  your  bureau." 

Ivan  smiled  again. 

"  I  have  already  forgiven  you  that  offence,"  says 
he,  "  because  you  furnished  me  with  some  very  valu 
able  information." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  I  answered.  "  The  second 
thing  for  which  I  wish  to  apologise  is  for  having 
caused  a  certain  amount  of  damage  to  your  motor 
car." 

Ivan  laughed  outright. 

"  Pray  don't  mention  it,"  he  cried,  still  laugh 
ing,  and  added,  more  seriously;  "you  are  a  very 
daring  man,  Mr.  Clamart." 

"  Needs  must  when  Chu-Chu  drives,"  I  said. 

"  I  should  have  much  regretted  the  loss  of  my 


i68  THE    CLOSING    NET 

mecanlclen"  says  Ivan.  "  He  is  a  useful  man. 
Also,  you  came  very  near  spoiling  a  good  piece  of 
work  for  me,  although  I  could  wish  that  you  had  if 
that  unfortunate  woman  dies."  A  scowl  crossed  his 
handsome  face.  '  That  Chu-Chu  is  the  very  devil, 
Mr.  Clamart.  There  was  absolutely  no  need  for 
him  to  poison  his  victim.  I  know  what  he  gave  her. 
She  would  have  been  dead  when  the  boat  reached 
Calais  if  it  had  not  been  for  her  mal-de-mer.  After 
your  revelations  in  my  office  I  would  have  broken  with 
Chu-Chu  had  it  not  been  that  there  was  no  one  im 
mediately  available  to  put  on  the  job.  I  am  not  a 
murderer,  Mr.  Clamart.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  am  a 
bit  of  an  artist,  and  promiscuous  killing  disgusts  me. 
I  have  had  enough  of  Chu-Chu.  The  pig  never 
mentioned  those  gems  that  you  took  from  him  —  or 
that  I  did,"  he  smiled. 

'  The  gems  belonged  to  Baron  Rosenthal," 
said  I. 

'To  Rosenthal?"  Ivan  sprang  up  in  his  chair. 
"  So  much  the  worse." 

"  It  is  all  right  now,"  said  I,  "  he  has  got  them 
back." 

11  What?  "  cried  Ivan,  startled  out  of  his  self-con 
trol. 

"  I  gave  them  back  to  him,"  said  I.  "  You  see, 
my  dear  Count,  I  do  not  boast  when  I  say  that  I  am 
a  man  of  my  word.  Meeting  Rosenthal  in  the  Auto 
mobile  Club  he  told  me  of  his  loss.  He  is  an  old 
friend  of  mine,  and  once  saved  me  from  a  South 
American  prison.  They  are  not  pleasant  places.  I 
told  him  that  I  had  been  for  many  years  a  profes 
sional  thief  and  that  in  a  quarrel  with  a  confrere  on  a 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  169 

personal  matter  I  had  come  into  possession  of  the 
gems.  Learning  that  they  were  his,  I  wished  to  re 
store  them.  The  Baron  asked  no  questions." 

Ivan  shook  his  fine  head.  "  Either  you  are  a 
madman,  Mr.  Clamart,"  says  he,  "  or  else  you  are 
something  much  more  rare;  an  honest  one." 

"  I  am  neither,"  I  answered.  "  I  am  merely  a 
man  of  my  word." 

Ivan  shot  me  a  curious  look.  "  You  are  apt  very 
soon  to  be  a  dead  man,"  said  he. 

'  That,"  said  I,  "  brings  me  to  the  main  point. 
Do  you,  my  dear  Count,  wish  that  I  were  a  dead 
man?  Because  if  you  do,  I  feel  that  I  might  just 
as  well  save  you  the  trouble  and  blow  my  brains  out. 
This  would  also  save  my  nervous  system  a  lot  of 
wear  and  tear." 

Ivan  twisted  the  waxed  tip  of  his  moustache.  He 
glanced  at  me  once  or  twice,  then  slowly  shook  his 
head. 

"  No,"  said  he,  slowly.  "  Personally  I  wish  you 
no  ill.  I  like  and  admire  you,  Mr.  Clamart.  As 
you  remarked  yesterday,  a  man  may  be  a  criminal 
and  yet  have  a  certain  code  of  ethics.  I,  myself, 
am  not  what  Society  would  call  a  purely  bad  man.  I 
steal  from  the  rich,  and  sometimes,  indirectly,  as  in 
the  case  of  a  bank,  from  the  poor.  Many  respect 
able  financiers  do  as  much.  But  I  give  liberally  to 
certain  charities.  It  might  surprise  you  to  know 
that  I  am  the  sole  supporter  of  an  institution  for 
tuberculous  children.  A  child  of  my  own  once  died 
of  tuberculosis  and  my  own  early  boyhood  was  men 
aced  by  the  same  disease." 

"  Your  charity  does  not  surprise  me  in  the  least," 


170  THE    CLOSING    NET 

said  I.  ''  In  fact,  it  shows  me  that  I  was  correct  in 
my  estimate  of  your  character.  If  I  had  not  felt 
this  quality  in  you  I  would  never  have  given  myself 
the  trouble  to  go  to  you  and  ask  for  Miss  Dalghren's 
pearls.  We  have  much  in  common,  Count.  We 
are  both  gentlemen  born  and  to  some  extent  the  vic 
tims  of  circumstance.  My  own  career  as  a  criminal 
was  cut  short  because  it  conflicted  with  my  personal 
honour.  Now,  my  career  as  an  honest  man  is  apt 
to  be  cut  short  because  it  conflicts  with  my  former 
career  as  a  criminal.  Chu-Chu  will  certainly  kill  me 
unless  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  kill  Chu-Chu  first. 
What  are  your  own  sympathies  in  this  feud?  " 

Ivan  gave  me  a  straight  look. 

'  They  depend,"  said  he,  "  on  my  own  interests. 
Will  you  give  me  your  word  of  honour  that  what 
ever  happens  you  will  never  lay  information  that 
may  injure  me?  " 

I  leaned  forward  and  looked  him  in  the  eyes. 

"  Count,"  I  said,  "  after  our  painful  interview  of 
yesterday  morning,  I  determined  to  write  a  full  state 
ment  which  would  incriminate  you  and  your  gang, 
and  place  it  in  the  hands  of  some  person  with  direc 
tions  to  put  it  in  the  hands  of  the  police  if  I  should 
suddenly  be  found  murdered  —  or  mysteriously  dis 
appear.  Then  I  thought  that  I  would  write  to  you 
and  tell  you  what  I  had  done,  thus  making  you,  in  a 
way,  my  guardian  angel.  But  I  did  not  do  this.  I 
had  met  with  straight  dealing  and  good  faith  at  your 
hands  —  and  I  knew  that  as  much  as  you  might  wish 
to  do  so,  nothing  on  your  part  would  ever  prevent 
Chu-Chu  from  trying  to  settle  his  account  with  me. 
The  man  is  a  blood-maniac.  This  afternoon  Cut- 


AN    HEROIC    LIE  171 

tynge  confessed  to  me  that  he  had  stolen  his  wife's 
pearls." 

Ivan,  whose  lustrous  eyes  had  never  left  mine, 
made  an  involuntary  gesture,  then  controlled  himself. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  Cuttynge  was  pressed  by  certain 
obligations  and  stole  the  pearls.  He  sold  them  out 
right,  knowing  that  he  could  never  explain  their  re 
turn.  His  confession  proved  beyond  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt  that  your  dealings  with  me  had  been  fair 
and  generous.  Now,  my  dear  Count,  you  could 
have  me  assassinated  at  any  time  that  suited  your 
convenience,  and  no  one  would  be  the  wiser.  I 
have  always  detested  the  idea  of  a  man's  turning 
honest  and  then  betraying  his  old  pals  to  save  his 
pelt.  I  won't  do  it.  I  wouldn't  do  it  living,  nor 
would  I  do  it  dead.  As  for  your  asking  me  for  my 
word  that  I  will  never  place  any  information  in 
jurious  to  you,  it  is  not  necessary.  But  since  you 
ask  for  it,  I  give  it.  As  long  as  you  do  not  inter 
fere  in  my  feud  with  Chu-Chu  I  will  never  betray 
you." 

Ivan  bowed. 

'  That's  quite  enough,  Mr.  Clamart,"  said  he. 
"  You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  me.  Fight  it  out 
with  Chu-Chu.  I  hope  you  kill  him."  He  scowled 
again,  and  his  handsome  face  underwent  a  lightning 
change  from  that  of  the  polite  man  of  the  world  to 
that  of  the  criminal,  which  lies  so  near  the  surface  in 
every  professional  thief. 

''  I  have  had  enough  of  Chu-Chu,"  he  snarled. 

'  Then  why  not  back  my  own  play?  "  I  asked 
quickly. 

"  No.     That  could  not  be  done.     It  would  be  bad 


172  THE    CLOSING    NET 

for  the  organisation.  You  are,  after  all,  an  out 
sider,  and  Chu-Chu  is  one  of  us.  He  has  no  friends, 
but  a  great  many  admirers.  Few  men  will  work 
with  him  after  having  had  the  opportunity  to  observe 
his  methods.  Not  long  ago,  when  on  a  bank  job  in 
the  south,  he  strangled  the  watchman  whom  he  had 
previously  corrupted  and  offered  a  share  for  hold 
ing  his  tongue.  One  of  my  younger  men  who  as 
sisted  him  protested.  '  What  does  it  matter?  '  asked 
Chu-Chu.  '  It  is  cheaper  than  paying  him,  and  the 
fellow  is  not  one  of  our  crowd.  He  is  only  an  ama 
teur.  Myself,  I  respect  only  the  professionals.' 
That  is  Chu-Chu.  He  would  rather  kill  than  not. 
Some  day  he  will  spoil  everything.  I  have  had 
enough  of  him.  I  hope  that  you  manage  to  kill 
him,  Mr.  Clamart.  He  is  no  longer  to  be  trusted, 
and  it  is  even  possible  that  if  caught  he  might  turn 
State's  Evidence.  He  is  an  egoist  —  a  rank  egoist." 

'  Then  you  will  stand  neutral  yourself?  "  I  asked. 

"  Absolutely.  I  will  do  more  than  that.  If  op 
portunity  offers  I  might  even  give  you  a  little  unof 
ficial  help.  Now  I  must  go.  I  wish  you  good  luck. 
You  will  need  it.  And  a  word  in  your  ear;  look  out 
for  an  Oriental-looking  person  with  one  nostril  much 
larger  than  the  other.  He  is  Chu-Chu's  servant. 
Some  say  he  is  Chu-Chu's  brain.  Now  I  must  go. 
Au  revoir  and  the  best  of  luck." 

And  out  he  went  and  jumped  into  his  taxi  and 
whirled  off. 


PART  TWO 


CHAPTER  I 

UNDER   COVER 

LET  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  when  I  started  out 
on  my  stalk  for  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur,  or  Chu-Chu 
the  Shearer  as  his  name  would  be  in  English,  I  was 
about  the  most  discouraged  man  in  France.  To 
have  to  slip  back  into  the  underworld  just  when  I 
had  begun  to  make  good  at  earning  a  clean,  honest 
living  was  bad  enough,  but  what  took  the  heart  clean 
out  of  me  was  the  knowledge  that  the  woman  who 
had  saved  me  from  penal  servitude  and  started  in  to 
make  a  man  of  me  should  think  that  I  had  broken 
my  word  to  her  and  gone  back  to  the  old  graft. 

This  was  what  really  hurt,  though  I  must  say  it 
was  this  that  put  an  edge  on  me,  too.  I  don't  say 
that  I  should  have  felt  any  scruples  at  the  idea  of  as 
sassinating  Chu-Chu  after  what  had  happened  be 
tween  us,  but  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  had  the  same 
savage  impatience  to  do  for  him  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  Edith.  Although  I  had  been  a  thief  for  thirty 
years  I  had  never  been  a  danger  to  society  except 
where  its  pocketbook  was  concerned.  I  had  always 
worked  unarmed,  and  had  never  hurt  anybody  —  ex 
cept  for  a  few  bruises,  perhaps,  in  a  scuffle  to  get 
away.  In  the  same  way  I  had  always  managed  to 
keep  clear  of  trouble  with  people  in  the  underworld, 
and  even  when  I  escaped  from  Cayenne  I  had  spared 
a  couple  of  devilish  guards  that  I  had  every  reason 

175 


176  THE    CLOSING    NET 

of  killing  and  might  just  as  well  as  not  have  settled. 
No  sir;  I  was  never  a  bloodthirsty  man. 

But  Chu-Chu  was.  Chu-Chu  was  wolf  or  weasel, 
snake  or  tiger,  according  to  the  hunting-ground  and 
the  game  he  was  out  for.  He  had  seldom  pulled  off 
a  big  job  without  leaving  blood  in  his  wake,  and  his 
reputation  as  a  killer  was  so  bad  that  even  the  swells 
of  his  own  mob  were  afraid  of  him,  and  he  usually 
had  to  work  alone.  In  Ivan's  big  organisation  of 
European  thieves  there  were  a  good  many  hard, 
desperate  people,  yet  I  do  not  believe  that  there  was 
a  single  one  who  would  have  dared  to  hold  Chu-Chu 
up  at  the  point  of  a  gun  in  the  presence  of  Ivan  him 
self,  as  I  had  done,  and  prove  him  a  liar  to  his  chief, 
to  say  nothing  of  depriving  him  of  gems  worth  a 
fortune.  That  alone  was  plenty  to  set  Chu-Chu  on 
my  trail,  to  say  nothing  of  my  having  tried  to  kill 
him  in  his  motor  on  the  road  to  Boulogne. 

So  here  we  were,  each  out  for  the  other's  pelt. 
The  odds  were  a  bit  with  me,  I  thought,  and  for  a 
variety  of  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  I  was  more 
of  a  cosmopolitan  and  less  of  a  pronounced  type,  and 
therefore  able  to  play  easily  the  role  of  Frenchman, 
Englishman,  or  American.  Then  I  had  no  little 
mannerisms,  while  Chu-Chu  was  known  to  his  as 
sociates  as  "  the  man  who  smiles,"  and  had  a  trick 
of  smiling  slightly  to  himself.  His  figure  was  aver 
age,  as  far  as  one  could  see  through  his  clothes,  and 
his  physical  strength  was  said  to  be  phenomenal, 
while  his  face  was  an  uncommon  one  for  its  promi 
nent  bony  structures.  Chu-Chu's  features  suggested 
a  Spanish  or  possibly  Basque  origin,  with  high  cheek 
bones,  red-lipped  mouth,  the  upper  lip  dropping  to  a 


UNDER    COVER  177 

point  in  the  middle,  and  suggesting  to  me  the  beak 
of  a  snapping  turtle,  while  his  nose  was  long  and 
acquisitive  —  a  nose  like  the  late  King  Leopold's. 

Another  thing  in  my  favour  was  the  fact  that  there 
was  little  danger  of  my  being  drawn  into  impru 
dence  by  such  a  hatred  as  Chu-Chu  must  have  felt 
for  me.  There  are  certain  human  beings  who  are 
affected  by  the  sight  of  an  enemy  just  as  you  might 
expect  a  wild  bull  to  be.  It  sends  the  blood  to  their 
heads  and  makes  them  a  bit  crazy,  and  even  if  they 
are  able  to  control  their  actions  their  looks  are  apt 
to  give  them  away.  Chu-Chu  was  rather  of  this 
sort,  I  was  inclined  to  think,  and  though  he  could  be 
as  acute  as  a  fox  when  on  the  job,  it  wasn't  unlikely 
that  he'd  make  some  sort  of  a  break  once  he  thought 
that  I  was  in  his  neighbourhood. 

But  what  seemed  to  me  by  long  odds  the  best  card 
in  my  fist  was  the  tip  that  Ivan  had  given  me  as  we 
parted.  Said  Ivan:  "Look  out  for  an  Oriental 
type  of  person  with  one  nostril  larger  than  the  other. 
He  is  Chu-Chu's  familiar.  Some  people  say  that  he 
is  Chu-Chu's  brain." 

Well,  the  stalk  was  on,  and  here  I  was  out  in  the 
forest  of  St.  Germain  hidden  in  a  clump  of  bay  and 
laurel,  rigging  myself  out  like  a  predicateur,  or  wan 
dering  preacher.  I  knew  the  part  to  perfection,  for 
there  had  been  one  of  these  chaps  doing  missionary 
work  at  Cayenne,  and  several  times  I  had  talked 
with  him  and  learned  all  about  the  fraternity.  The 
costume,  as  well  as  the  role,  was  ideal  for  my  busi 
ness.  A  man  might  wear  anything  under  the  long 
black  soutane,  and  the  round  black  hat  had  a  wide 
brim  that  shielded  the  face  by  the  least  bend  of  the 


178  THE    CLOSING    NET 

head.  Another  thing  that  helped  was  the  fact  that 
these  preachers  often  wear  shaded  goggles,  having 
formed  the  habit  out  in  the  colonies.  It's  a  great 
point  in  favour  of  a  man  disguised  to  have  his  eyes 
screened.  There  are  fine  subtle  lines  of  expression 
around  a  man's  eyes  that  are  almost  impossible  to 
control  at  all  times. 

Well,  sir,  I  stuck  a  little  hand-mirror  in  the  crotch 
of  a  bush  and  got  to  work.  The  skin  was  brown 
enough  as  a  consequence  of  the  Cayenne  health  re 
sort  and  of  being  so  much  on  the  road  in  motors. 
Then  I  ran  the  clippers  over  my  head. 

All  rigged  out,  and  with  a  tweed  knickerbocker 
suit  underneath  the  long  black  soutane,  a  grimy 
black  valise  in  one  hand  and  a  big  cotton  umbrella 
in  the  other,  I  walked  over  to  St.  Germain  and 
bought  a  third-class  ticket  for  Paris.  My  plan  was 
to  get  a  little  room  up  in  Passy,  giving  it  out  to 
any  neighbours  who  might  be  curious  that  I  was 
studying  English.  Then  as  soon  as  I  was  settled  I 
would  get  to  work  to  locate  Chu-Chu ;  and  this  might 
be  a  hard  job,  or,  again,  it  might  not,  depending 
on  how  much  he  was  afraid  of  me. 

It  was  possible  that  Chu-Chu,  trusting  to  his  repu 
tation  as  the  most  dangerous  man  in  Europe  when  it 
came  to  the  settling  of  a  score,  might  think  that  I 
had  lost  my  nerve  and  skipped  the  country.  But, 
considering  the  fact  that  I  had  made  such  a  good 
try  for  him  on  the  road  to  Boulogne,  the  chances 
were  that  he  would  be  convinced  that  my  heart  was 
in  my  work,  and  would  get  under  cover  himself. 

It  might  seem  on  the  face  of  it  like  a  pretty  hope 
less  sort  of  job,  combing  a  big  city  for  a  man  whom 


UNDER    COVER  179 

I'd  only  seen  three  times  in  my  life,  and  who  was 
pretty  sure  to  be  in  some  sort  of  disguise.  But 
there  was  one  thing  that  I  thought  would  help  me 
out.  Chu-Chu  knew  that  Leontine  Petrovski  had 
taken  a  fancy  to  me,  and  he  would  never  believe  that 
any  such  woman  as  Leontine  would  have  to  call  twice 
to  a  man.  Her  looks  and  the  wonderful  alluring- 
ness  of  her  were  the  talk  of  Paris,  and  when  Leon- 
tine  walked  into  a  swell  restaurant  even  the  musicians 
got  mixed  in  their  notes.  Chu-Chu  would  be  pretty 
sure  that  I  would  be  hanging  about  Leontine,  and  it 
was  somewhere  in  her  neighbourhood  that  he  would 
try  to  pick  up  my  trail;  and  it  was  while  he  was  try 
ing  to  nose  it  out  that  I  counted  on  crossing  his. 

It  was  a  funny  situation,  each  of  us  shadowing 
Leontine's  house,  trying  to  get  wind  of  the  other. 
But  the  more  I  turned  it  over  in  my  mind  the  more 
convinced  I  grew  that  the  quickest  way  to  find  my 
man  would  be  to  keep  a  constant  watch  on  the  little 
house  in  Passy.  There  was  also  the  chance  of  fall 
ing  on  Chu-Chu  possibly  going  to  see  Leontine  on 
professional  business. 

All  this  being  so,  I  took  a  room  in  a  little  hotel 
just  off  the  Rue  de  Passy,  telling  the  patronne  that 
I  was  perfecting  my  English  in  one  of  the  many 
schools  in  the  neighbourhood.  There  was  a  little 
cafe  almost  opposite  Leontine's  house,  and  I  found 
that  by  sitting  back  in  a  particular  corner  I  could  look 
out  under  the  low  awning  in  front  and  keep  a  con 
stant  watch  without  being  observed  from  the  street. 
So  there  I  went  every  day  at  noon,  for  it  would  have 
attracted  attention  if  I  had  spent  the  entire  day 
there,  and  after  a  very  good  little  lunch  I  would  get 


i8o  THE    CLOSING    NET 

out  a  copy  of  Dickens  and  a  pocket  dictionary  and 
spend  the  most  of  the  afternoon  reading  and  looking 
out  of  the  window.  The  personnel  of  the  establish 
ment  used  to  hold  me  up  to  the  other  clients  as  a 
very  model  of  industry  and  perseverance. 

Most  of  these  other  clients  were  cabmen,  fiacre 
and  taxi  drivers.  Like  all  of  that  class  of  French 
working  people,  they  were  quiet,  orderly,  good- 
natured  fellows,  full  of  good-humoured  banter  and 
amusing  stories  in  connection  with  their  trade.  The 
second  day  that  I  was  having  dejeuner  there  one  of 
the  taxi  drivers,  who  had  just  finished  his  meal,  and 
was  about  to  crank  his  motor,  was  hailed  by  Leon- 
tine's  butler.  I  saw  Leontine,  more  superb-looking 
than  ever,  come  out,  get  in,  and  whirl  away. 

It  occurred  to  me,  of  course,  that  for  all  I  knew 
she  might  be  going  even  then  to  keep  a  rendezvous 
with  Chu-Chu;  and  it  occurred  to  me  also  that  if  the 
Shearer  came  to  Leontine's  house  even  while  I  was 
on  the  look-out  it  might  not  do  me  a  particle  of 
good,  as  he  would  be  pretty  sure  to  come  and  go 
in  a  taxi,  probably  cleverly  disguised.  A  good  many 
people  came  to  and  went  from  Leontine's  —  some 
in  handsome  private  limousines,  others  in  taxi-autos, 
and  still  others  in  taxicabs  or  afoot.  In  the  first 
week  of  my  watching  I  recognised  several  members 
of  Ivan's  mob,  and  once  Ivan  himself. 

But  for  all  the  folk  that  came  and  went  I  was 
convinced,  at  the  end  of  two  weeks'  watching,  that 
Chu-Chu  had  not  got  past  me.  For  all  I  knew  he 
might  be,  and  very  likely  was,  watching  the  house 
from  some  point  not  far  from  where  I  was  stationed. 
I  began  to  be  afraid  that  we  might  be  alternating 


UNDER    COVER  181 

watches,  he  perhaps  going  on  duty  at  night.  I  did  a 
'good  deal  of  night  work  myself,  dining  at  the  same 
little  restaurant  and  sitting  behind  the  screen  of  dwarf 
orange-trees  in  tubs,  usually  to  see  Leontine  and 
Kharkoff  roll  away  at  about  half-past  seven  in  the 
big  six-cylinder  car  that  I  myself  had  sold  to  the 
Prince.  They  dined  out  and  went  to  the  play  or  the 
opera  almost  every  night,  although  it  was  now  mid 
summer,  and  most  of  the  chic  people  were  at  the 
springs  or  beaches. 

It  was  tiresome  work  watching  there  for  a  sign 
of  Chu-Chu,  but  the  two  proverbs  or  maxims  of 
which  I  have  always  most  admired  the  truth  are 
"  It's  dogged  as  does  it,"  and  "  Everything  comes  to 
him  who  waits."  Personally  I  believe  that  there  is 
some  sort  of  compelling,  cohesive  force  given  off 
from  the  person  or  animal  that  sits  down  and  quietly 
waits  and  wishes  for  his  prey.  That  force  goes  out 
in  time  to  draw  the  desired  object,  especially  when 
the  wishing  is  done  conscientiously  and  without  any 
let-up.  So  I  sat  there  and  waited  and  watched  and 
read  "  Pickwick  Papers  "  and  "  Oliver  Twist  "  and 
"  Dombey  and  Son,"  and  picked  up  the  dictionary 
when  I  happened  to  think  of  it.  Most  of  the  cab 
drivers  said  a  word  to  me  when  they  came  in,  and  I 
had  the  general  reputation  of  being  an  inoffensive 
and  deeply  erudite  young  preacher. 

Then  one  hot  day,  when  the  little  "  terrace  " —  as 
they  call  the  strip  of  sidewalk  enclosed  by  dwarf 
oranges  —  was  crowded,  and  even  the  inner  room 
was  well  filled,  a  freshly-painted,  saucy  little  auto- 
taxi  drew  up  to  the  curb,  and  down  from  the  driver's 
seat  stepped  a  very  pretty,  smartly-costumed  chauf- 


i8z  THE    CLOSING    NET 

feuse.  Just  at  this  time  the  Prefecture  had  decided 
to  issue  permits  to  women,  and  quite  a  number  of  en 
terprising  young  persons  started  in  to  compete  with 
the  men.  They  have  since  practically  disappeared, 
the  profession  not  being  adapted  to  the  sex,  due  per 
haps  to  the  ladies  insisting  on  the  feminine  preroga 
tive  of  changing  their  minds  when  meeting  some 
body  on  the  road. 

There  was  nothing  indecisive  about  this  good- 
looking  chauffeuse.  The  lunching  drivers  were 
watching  her,  and  I  heard  a  murmur  run  through 
the  room :  "  Look,  there  she  is  —  the  Countess  Ro 
salie!" 

'  The  Countess  Rosalie?  "  I  asked  of  a  chauffeur 
at  a  table  opposite.      "  That  is  her  sobriquet?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  answered.  "  The  title  is  her 
own.  She  met  with  misfortune,  and  preferred  to 
support  herself  driving  a  taxi  to  pinning  feathers 
on  hats.  Everybody  knows  her.  Between  us,  she 
is  the  only  woman  in  Paris  who  can  really  drive." 

Whatever  else  may  have  been  said  about  her,  the 
Countess  Rosalie  was  nice  to  look  at.  Her  glossy 
chestnut  hair  was  coifed  as  snugly  as  she  could  twist 
it  under  her  little  visored  cap,  and  the  trim,  pretty 
figure,  mature  yet  with  supple,  girlish  lines,  was  dis 
played  charmingly  and  modestly  in  the  costume  of 
light  Indian  khaki.  The  skirt  was  short,  and  showed 
her  small,  gracefully  rounded  ankles  and  dainty  feet, 
which  told  of  good  blood  somewhere,  and  as  she 
came  across  the  sidewalk  she  began  to  draw  off  her 
little  kid  gauntlets,  smiling,  red-lipped,  bright  hazel 
eyes  dancing  as  she  replied  with  a  charming  mixture 
of  friendliness  and  sauciness  to  the  good-natured 


UNDER    COVER  183 

greetings  from  the  crowd  at  dejeuner.  It  may  be 
true  that  some  of  the  remarks  were  a  bit  free  but 
not  one  was  the  least  bit  offensive  so  far  as  any 
deeper  intention  went.  All  hands  "  tutoyed  "  her, 
I  noticed,  which  was  quite  permissible,  as  here  in 
France  there  is  a  sort  of  esprit  de  corps  between 
members  of  the  same  craft  of  manual  labour,  who 
use  between  themselves  the  familiar  "  thee  '  and 
"  thou." 

Nobody  scored  anything  on  the  Countess  Rosalie. 
She  gave  them  all  as  good  as  they  sent,  and  was  a 
pretty  sight  doing  it,  with  her  red  cheeks,  even  white 
teeth,  and  saucy  pouting  lips.  She  was  not  a  little 
woman,  but  her  daintiness  gave  one  that  impression. 
I  noticed,  though,  that  when  one  of  the  older  chauf 
feurs  got  up  to  look  at  the  carburetter  of  her  car, 
which  she  said  was  flooding  all  the  time,  she  was 
rather  the  taller  of  the  two,  although  he  looked  a 
fair-sized  man. 

The  tables  outside  were  filled,  so  she  came  inside, 
where  the  seat  opposite  me  appealed  to  her  as  the 
most  desirable  because  it  was  next  to  the  window. 

"Monsieur  will  permit  me  to  sit  here?"  she 
asked,  with  a  smile  and  about  as  keen  a  look  as  I 
ever  got  from  any  pair  of  eyes.  It  wasn't  a  hard 
look,  but  just  to  size  me  up  and  form  an  idea  of  how 
much  of  a  fool  or  knave  lived  under  that  black  sou 
tane. 

"  Pray  do  so,  madame,"  I  answered.  "  It  is  not 
too  hot  here  by  the  window." 

She  thanked  me,  and  sat  down.  I  picked  up  my 
book,  and  I  could  feel  her  bright  eyes  searching  me 
as  I  read.  French  is  like  a  mother-tongue  to  me, 


1 84  THE    CLOSING    NET 

having  spoken  scarcely  any  English  until  my  old 
nurse,  Tante  Fi-F5,  died,  and  I  was  sent  to  the  asylum. 
Besides,  I  had  done  a  good  deal  of  work  in  France 
—  not  housebreaking,  you  understand,  but  con  graft 
at  the  big  resorts  like  Aix-les-Bains  and  Dinard  and 
Trouville.  For  all  of  his  acuteness  at  home  there 
is  no  such  sucker  as  the  travelling  American, 
especially  if  you  strike  him  when  he's  a  bit  lonely  and 
has  had  his  leg  pulled  by  Europeans,  and  thinks 
that  the  American  language  with  an  Ohio  accent  is  a 
guarantee  of  good  faith.  Mind  you,  I'd  never  done 
any  mean  little  tricks  like  nicking  his  leather  with  his 
letter  of  credit  and  a  few  hundred  francs,  or  accept 
ing  his  invitation  to  do  Montmartre  at  his  expense 
and  then  going  through  him  when  he  was  filled  up 
with  the  mixture  of  wormwood,  logwood,  and  car 
bonated  white  wine  called  champagne.  But  I  had 
once  sold  an  American  millionaire  an  original  Rem 
brandt,  which  an  Italian  acquaintance  of  mine 
painted  during  the  week  that  I  was  showing  my 
friend  the  Louvre  and  a  few  other  places.  Even  the 
United  States  Customs  let  him  pay  duty  on  it  as  an 
original,  and  the  picture  is  now  the  pride  of  his  part 
of  the  State.  My  Venetian  friend  and  I  shared  up  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  between  us,  and  all  hands 
were  satisfied. 

But  making  an  American  think  that  I  was  the  last 
living  descendant  of  the  Conde  family  and  convin 
cing  an  alert  Parisienne  that  I  was  an  Alsatian  pre- 
dicateur  were  two  very  different  things.  So  I  kept 
on  reading,  while  my  pretty  companion  ordered  her 
dejeuner  and  went  ahead  with  her  meal.  But  all  the 
time  I  could  feel  her  bright,  curious  eyes  fixed  on 


UNDER    COVER  185 

me,  investigating  every  detail  of  my  face  and  cos 
tume. 

Presently  from  across  the  street  I  heard  a  motor 
slowing  down,  and  glanced  across  to  see  a  taxi  pull 
ing  up  in  front  of  Leontine's  house.  A  slender, 
well-dressed  man,  with  black  hair  and  a  thin  black 
moustache,  stepped  quickly  out,  rang  the  bell  of  the 
garden  door,  and  was  let  in  a  moment  later  by  Leon- 
tine's  maitrc  d'hotel.  But  'I  scarcely  noticed  him, 
for  something  had  caught  my  eyes  and  drawn  them 
to  the  driver  of  the  taxi. 

This  chauffeur  was  apparently  a  man  past  middle 
age,  and  seemed  altogether  of  the  new  type  that  has 
now  become  so  common  to  this  class.  He  looked 
to  be  of  medium  size  and  weight,  was  costumed  in 
the  usual  uniform,  and  wore  a  closely-cropped  mous 
tache  of  iron-grey.  His  face  was  rather  high-fea 
tured,  the  nose  aquiline,  and  the  eyes  dark  and  over 
hung  by  bushy,  grizzled  eyebrows. 

There  was  absolutely  nothing  about  the  fellow  to 
hold  my  attention,  but  for  some  reason  I  was  un 
able  to  take  my  eyes  off  him.  He  reminded  me  of 
somebody  quite  impossible  for  me  to  place,  and  as  I 
stared  through  the  window  at  him  I  had  that  dis 
agreeable  sensation  of  being  utterly  baffled  in  mem 
ory.  Almost  as  if  he  felt  the  force  of  the  mental 
effort  I  was  making,  he  shot  a  quick  look  in  my 
direction,  but  the  awning  was  low,  and  I  was  sitting 
back  in  the  shadow,  and  all  that  he  could  see  was 
the  crowded  tables  on  the  terrace.  Yet  something 
in  that  sudden  glance  of  his  had  set  my  heart  to 
thumping  in  a  way  that  was  mighty  disagreeable. 
But  it  was  no  use.  I  couldn't  for  the  life  of  me 


186  THE    CLOSING    NET 

place  him,  so  I  picked  up  my  book  again.  As  I  did 
so  my  eyes  fell  on  the  pretty  face  opposite.  The 
Countess  Rosalie's  fork  was  poised  half-way  between 
her  plate  and  her  red  lips,  and  the  piece  of  melon  on 
it  was  quite  forgotten.  Her  face  had  a  look  of  in 
tense  and  startled  curiosity.  Seeing  that  I  had  no* 
ticed  it,  she  recovered  herself,  popped  the  melon 
into  her  pink  mouth,  and  looked  down  at  her  plate. 

I  leaned  forward.  "  Madame  was  about  to  say 
something?"  I  asked  suavely;  for  I  knew  that  my 
face  must  have  startled  her,  and  I  did  not  care  to 
have  it  leak  out  that  I  was  spying  on  the  little  house 
in  the  garden. 

"  Oh,  no,  monsieur!  "  she  answered,  slightly  con 
fused. 

'  We  missionaries,"  said  I,  with  a  smile,  "  some 
times  carry  in  our  minds  the  pictures  of  things  that 
one  would  wish  to  forget.  Now  and  then  some 
passing  thought  or  something  we  may  read  recalls 
them,  and  at  such  moments  the  emotion  awakened 
may  reveal  itself.  You  were  startled  at  the  expres 
sion  of  my  face?  " 

She  nodded.  "  That  is  true,"  she  admitted. 
'  When  I  sat  down  opposite  you  your  look  was  that 
of  a  studious  priest.  Then  all  at  once  you  laid  down 
the  book  and  looked  through  the  window  with  the 
mouth  and  eyes  of  an  apache  about  to  strike.  Oh, 
monsieur!  " 

She  drew  back,  checking  a  little  frightened  gasp. 
While  she  was  speaking  I  had  looked  through  the 
window  again,  and  as  I  did  so  the  chauffeur  in  the 
taxi  across  the  street  leaned  forward  as  if  to  ex 
amine  something  at  his  feet.  In  that  second  I 


UNDER    COVER  187 

recognised  him  for  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur;  the  con 
tour  of  the  bony  outline  of  the  face,  the  poise  of 
the  head  on  the  body,  the  tightening  of  the  sleeve 
over  the  muscular  arm.  There  could  be  no  doubt. 

And  yet  it  was  an  amazing  thing,  and  the  instant 
that  he  had  recovered  his  upright  position  I  could 
have  sworn  that  my  vision  had  played  me  a  trick, 
due  perhaps  to  my  one  constant  idea.  Chu-Chu's 
brows  were  thin  and  straight  and  black,  his  nose 
was  long  but  low-bridged,  his  eyes  were  rather  light 
in  shade,  his  chin  pointed.  Also  he  was  a  more 
trimly-built  man,  less  full  in  the  paunch.  I  was  al 
most  baffled. 

But  the  woman  opposite  was  looking  at  me  as  if 
she  wanted  to  get  up  and  bolt,  and  that  would  never 
do.  I  smiled  at  her  and  wondered  at  the  fascinated 
look  in  her  eyes.  But  I  didn't  wonder  long,  for  in 
my  business  I  couldn't  afford  to  miss  a  single  trick. 
The  glimpse  that  the  Countess  Rosalie  had  got  of 
the  criminal,  the  assassin,  looking  out  of  the  eyes  of 
the  studious  young  preacher,  had  frightened  and 
startled  her,  but  it  had  aroused  her  curiosity.  I  saw 
the  chance  of  securing  a  valuable  pal. 

"  Madame,"  said  I,  with  a  reassuring  smile, 
"  what  was  it  that  you  thought  you  saw  in  my 
face?" 

She  gave  a  nervous  little  laugh.  "  Something 
terrible,"  she  answered,  and  glanced  over  her 
shoulder  at  the  sun-flooded  street.  There  was  noth 
ing  but  the  gardens  and  shuttered  houses  opposite, 
and  the  grizzled  taxi  driver  drowsing  on  his  seat. 

'  You  are  right,"  I  answered  with  another  smile 
and  a  little  shrug.  "  It  was  something  terrible,  be- 


i88  THE    CLOSING    NET 

cause  it  was  jealousy.  There  is  nothing  more  terri 
ble  than  jealousy,  you  know." 

Her  eyes  opened  very  wide.  "  But  you  are  a 
priest,"  she  said. 

"  I  will  tell  you  something,"  I  said,  leaning  toward 
her  and  dropping  my  voice.  '  You  have  surprised 
a  secret  while  sitting  here,  and  I  do  not  want  you 
to  say  to  any  of  these  others  that  you  caught  me 
glaring  at  that  house  in  the  garden  across  the  street. 
But  it  is  because  of  the  woman  who  lives  there  that  I 
have  become  a  predicateur" 

The  interest  that  every  Frenchwoman  always 
lends  to  a  love  story  flamed  up  in  her  face. 

"  And  the  man  for  whom  the  taxi  is  waiting  is 
your  enemy?  "  she  half-whispered. 

"  I  wish  him  no  ill,"  I  answered,  "  but  I  must 
find  out  where  he  goes  after  leaving  here.  You 
have  almost  finished  your  dejeuner,  have  you 
not?  May  I  engage  your  services  for  the  after 
noon?  " 

She  hesitated  for  an  instant,  then  nodded. 

'  You  want  me  to  follow  him?  " 

'  Yes,  but  without  his  discovering  that  he  is  being 
followed.  That  may  be  difficult,  as  it  is  very  pos 
sible  that  he  will  be  on  the  look-out." 

"  But  why  should  he  be  on  the  look-out?  "  asked 
the  Countess  Rosalie.  Her  pretty  face  was  flushed 
and  eager,  and  as  she  spoke  she  beckoned  to  the 
garqon  and  settled  her  bill.  I  had  already  paid  my 
own.  We  both  looked  out  of  the  window  at  the 
taxi  diagonally  opposite.  The  top  was  up,  as  was 
the  case  with  most  of  the  others,  for  the  sun  was 
directly  overhead  and  very  hot.  Chu-Chu  had 


UNDER    COVER  189 

pulled  a  newspaper  from  his  pocket  and  appeared  to 
be  reading. 

"  He  may  expect  to  be  followed,"  I  answered, 
"  because  the  woman  whom  he  is  visiting  is  suspected 
of  being  a  Nihilist.  So  far  the  police  have  never 
disturbed  her  because  she  is  under  the  protection  of 
Prince  Kharkoff " 

"It  is  Leontine  Petrovski?  "  she  asked  breath 
lessly. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

"  And  she  is  the  woman  whom  you  love?  " 

"  I  love  her  no  longer." 

"  But  you  are  jealous  of  her.  It  comes  to  the 
same  thing.  I  understand.  You  wish  to  be  re 
venged,  and  so  you  want  to  find  out  more  about  this 
man.  Isn't  that  true?  " 

"  To  some  extent,"  I  answered.  "  But  I  will  tell 
you  another  thing.  The  chauffeur  is  a  friend  of 
the  man  who  is  in  La  Petrovski's  house.  I  could 
learn  more,  perhaps,  from  watching  him  than  from 
watching  the  other.  If  you  are  free  • 

"  Look!  "  she  interrupted,  and  dropped  her  hand 
on  my  sleeve. 

For  Leontine's  garden  door  had  swung  open,  and 
out  came  Leontine  herself,  followed  by  the  dark 
man  whom  I  recognised  from  Ivan's  description  as 
Chu-Chu's  manservant,  or  pal,  or  whatever  he  was. 
Chu-Chu,  with  a  quick  sidelong  glance,  got  down  to 
start  his  motor. 

"  Come,  then,"  said  the  Countess  Rosalie,  loud 
enough  for  those  about  us  to  hear.  "  I  will  set  you 
on  your  way." 

"  You  are  very  kind.,"  I  answered,  and  followed 


190  THE    CLOSING    NET 

her  to  the  door.  Under  the  awning  I  waited  for  an 
instant  while  she  said  a  word  of  thanks  to  the  man 
who  had  regulated  her  carburetter.  The  pause  gave 
Chu-Chu  time  to  turn  and  start  down  the  street  to 
ward  the  Chaussee  de  la  Muette. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    COUNTESS   ROSALIE 

ONE  of  the  coffee-drinking  chauffeurs  got  up  and 
cranked  our  motor,  with  some  joke  about  a  pretty 
woman's  need  of  a  strong  arm.  I  stepped  inside 
and  we  started,  Chu-Chu  being  by  that  time  near  the 
end  of  the  street. 

My  titled  chauffeuse  certainly  knew  her  work. 
As  soon  as  Chu-Chu  was  around  the  corner  she 
darted  ahead,  lagging  back  when  he  came  in 
sight  again.  As  it  was  very  hot  and  the  hour  for 
dejeuner,  there  was  but  little  traffic,  but  unless  they 
led  us  a  chase  of  some  length  I  did  not  think  that 
they  would  suspect  they  were  being  followed.  It 
is  nothing  unusual  for  two  taxicabs  to  be  running 
the  same  course  at  about  the  same  speed;  in  fact, 
many  chauffeurs  drop  into  the  habit  of  gauging 
speed  by  the  chap  ahead,  as  this  simplifies  traffic  and 
tends  to  an  evenly  moving  procession. 

We  spun  out  through  the  Chaussee  de  la  Muette 
and  into  the  Bois,  past  the  Auteuil  racecourse  and, 
striking  the  boulevard  that  leads  to  the  Boulogne 
gate,  followed  it  straight  out.  Here  Rosalie  let 
Chu-Chu  get  so  far  ahead  that  I  was  worried. 

"Don't  lose  him,"  said  I  through  the  tube;  for 
the  Countess'  cab  was  fitted  out  with  all  the  modern 
conveniences,  even  to  flowers  and  cigar  holder  and 
a  little  red  electric  light.  Chic  was  the  word  for  it, 
inside  and  out. 

191 


192  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  I  want  to  give  him  time  to  pass  the  octroi," 
she  answered,  brisk  as  a  robin  redbreast. 

"  All  right,"  I  answered,  "  you  know  best." 

But  Chu-Chu,  instead  of  going  through  the  Bou 
logne  gate,  held  on  around  past  the  Longchamps 
racecourse,  and  at  such  a  clip  that  Rosalie  got  anx 
ious  and  turned  on  all  the  power  she  had.  As  we 
passed  the  Porte  de  Boulogne  I  saw  an  agent  raise 
his  whistle  to  his  lips  and  thought  it  was  all  up  with 
us,  but  Rosalie  blew  him  a  kiss  and  he  lowered  it 
with  a  sheepish  grin  and  a  warning  shake  of  his 
head.  Although  I  did  not  know  it  at  the  time, 
Rosalie  was  quite  a  well-known  figure,  and  had  even 
been  interviewed  for  several  of  the  papers.  Being 
in  automobile  circles  myself,  I  should  have  known 
all  about  her,  but  did  not,  simply  on  account  of  the 
pressure  of  my  own  affairs. 

But  I  was  learning  about  her  fast  enough  now. 
Under  the  impression  that  Chu-Chu  was  going  right 
around  Longchamps  she  closed  in,  and  when  he  sud 
denly  darted  off  to  the  left  and  pulled  up  at  the 
St.  Cloud  gate  we  were  only  about  a  hundred 
metres  behind  him.  It  was  a  big  surprise  for  Rosa 
lie,  but  she  wasn't  feazed  a  particle.  If  she  had 
kept  on  around  we  might  have  lost  him,  and  if  we 
had  slowed  down  and  waited  for  him  to  declare 
his  essence  it  might  have  attracted  attention,  so  up 
comes  Rosaline  full  bore,  brakes  down  at  the  gate, 
coming  to  a  stop  just  behind  Chu-Chu,  and  hops 
out  to  get  her  ticket. 

As  for  me  I  had  put  on  my  tinted  goggles  and 
and  whipped  out  a  little  breviary,  and  was  reading 
away  with  my  head  ducked  a  trifle.  Under  the 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       193 

rim  of  the  flat  hat  I  watched  Chu-Chu  as  he  made 
his  declaration,  took  his  ticket,  and  stepped  back 
to  his  car.  He  shot  a  quick  glance  at  Rosalie,  half- 
curious  and  half-amused,  at  which  she  shoved  out 
her  little  chin  and  passed  him  with  a  pout.  The 
octroi  men  tried  to  give  her  a  little  guff,  and  I  was 
frightened  for  a  minute  as  Chu-Chu  was  going  off 
at  a  good  clip;  but  Rosaline  snatched  her  ticket  out 
of  the  official's  hand  and  came  back  laughing.  She 
had  left  the  motor  running,  of  course,  and  the  next 
second  we  were  off  along  the  bank  of  the  Seine 
after  Chu-Chu. 

"  Your  Leontine  is  a  beauty,"  said  Rosalie 
through  the  tube.  "  I  don't  wonder  you're  jealous. 
But  that  chauffeur  has  the  eyes  of  a  wolf.  He 
looks  as  if  he  might  be  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Chu-Chu  le  Ton 
deur?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  everybody  knows  about  him.  For  myself 
I  doubt  that  there  is  such  a  person.  Every  time 
there  is  a  murder  and  robbery  people  say  '  Chu-Chu 
le  Tondeur.'  ' 

I  wondered  what  she  would  think  if  she  knew 
that  the  gentleman  with  the  wolfish  eyes  was  actu 
ally  none  other  than  the  celebrated  criminal  whose 
performances  had  sent  shivers  down  the  spine  of 
many  a  respectable  bourgeois  or  lonely  chatelaine 
in  her  gloomy  country  house  hidden  in  the  trees. 
It  might  also  startle  her,  I  thought,  if  she  were  to 
discover  that  the  studious  preacher  in  her  cab  was, 
even  as  Chu-Chu  walked  from  the  octroi  station  to 
his  motor,  wondering  if  it  might  not  be  possible 
to  hit  him  with  a  shot  from  an  automatic  pis- 


194  THE    CLOSING    NET 

tol  and  escape  in  the  confusion  that  would  follow. 

For  precisely  this  idea  had  gone  through  my  head. 
Nowadays  when  one  hears  a  sharp  report  the  first 
thing  that  crosses  the  mind  is  the  thought  that  it  is 
a  burst  tire  or  a  back  fire  from  a  motor.  As  Chu- 
Chu  walked  past  the  window  of  Rosalie's  taxi  I 
was  almost  on  the  point  of  shooting,  then  jumping 
out,  picking  him  up  and,  while  the  octroi  officials 
were  tearing  about  and  the  crowd  was  gathering, 
slipping  oft  into  the  bushes  and  shedding  my  round 
hat,  goggles  and  soutane.  Underneath  I  wore  a 
tweed  knickerbocker  suit  and  russet  shoes,  and  I  had 
in  my  pocket  a  tweed  tourist's  cap  to  match  the  suit, 
and  a  Paris  Baedeker.  It  would  have  taken  me 
just  about  two  seconds  to  have  made  the  change 
from  a  wandering  Alsatian  French  predicateur  to 
the  most  harmless  of  British  tourists. 

Then  why  didn't  I?  It  is  rather  hard  to  say. 
I  had  nothing  to  fear  from  Leontine  or  from  Chu- 
Chu's  man.  Leontine  would  have  guessed  in  a 
flash  what  had  happened,  and  probably  would  have 
helped  me  if  the  opportunity  offered.  Chu-Chu's 
pal  would  have  been  principally  interested  in  doing 
his  own  get-away  before  it  was  discovered  that  Chu- 
Chu's  face  was  skilfully  made  up.  I  had  noticed 
when  he  passed  that  his  nose  got  its  aristocratic 
bridge  from  shadow-lines  carefully  laid  on;  and  his 
eyes,  really  light,  were  made  to  look  dark  by  the 
blackening  of  the  lower  lashes  and  perhaps  a  little 
atropin.  His  moustache  was  faked  by  the  glueing 
in  of  white  hairs  among  the  black  ones  already 
there. 

I  think  that  I  could  have  pulled  the  job  off  all 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       195 

right.  Honestly,  my  chief  reason  for  not  taking 
the  chance  was  the  Countess  Rosalie  —  I  didn't 
want  to  mix  her  up  in  it.  She  had  been  a  little 
trump,  and  the  French  police  are  always  ready  to 
grab  a  scapegoat.  There's  a  bit  of  the  Chinese 
theory  about  French  criminal  procedure.  Some 
body  ought  to  suffer,  if  only  to  preserve  the  reputa 
tion  of  the  police.  Punish  the  guilty  by  preference, 
but  punish  somebody.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
guilty  party,  or  supposedly  guilty  party,  usually 
gets  off  in  the  end  unless  he's  a  fairly  honest  sort  of 
cove;  but  there's  a  lot  of  trouble  about  it  all  the 
same,  and  I  didn't  want  to  chuck  it  on  my  bright- 
eyed  Rosalie.  I  was  getting  rather  keen  about 
Rosalie. 

Anyway,  Chu-Chu  walked  past  me  unhurt,  and 
maybe  he  felt  that  th?re  was  a  heap  of  trouble  in 
the  atmosphere,  for  his  little  smile  showed  the  white 
of  two  fangs  that  might  be  useful  to  a  collie,  and 
his  eyes  were  dancing.  He  may  have  looked  at  me; 
I  don't  know,  because  when  he  got  close  my  own 
eyes  were  frozen  on  an  Ave  Maria.  One  spark 
would  have  blown  up  the  magazine,  and  I  wasn't 
taking  any  more  chances  than  were  strictly  neces 
sary.  Something  told  me  that  from  the  moment 
that  Chu-Chu's  eyes  and  mine  actually  met  any  dis 
guise  under  heaven  would  be  about  as  effective  as 
a  tulle  gown  in  front  of  an  X-ray  machine. 

Off  we  went  again,  Chu-Chu  well  in  the  lead  and 
a  car  or  two  between  us.  He  was  across  the  bridge 
at  St.  Cloud  before  we  had  reached  it,  but  we  caught 
a  glimpse  of  him  as  he  swung  round  the  corner  to 
start  up  the  hill  on  the  road  to  Versailles.  At  the 


196  THE    CLOSING    NET 

first  turn,  which,  as  you  remember,  is  mighty  sud 
den,  and  with  a  good  nine  per  cent,  grade,  we  caught 
up  to  him,  which  we  certainly  should  not  have  done 
if  he  hadn't  purposely  slowed.  The  man  with 
Leontine  was  looking  back,  and  as  he  sighted  Rosa 
lie  he  said  something  to  Chu-Chu,  who  went  from 
his  first  to  his  second  speed. 

It  was  plain  enough  that  they  were  a  bit  suspi 
cious,  although  the  chances  were  about  ten  to  one 
that  any  car  coming  out  of  that  gate  of  the  Bois 
would  stick  to  the  Versailles  road.  Nevertheless, 
at  the  top  of  the  hill  Chu-Chu  still  kept  on  his 
second  speed,  and  Rosalie  was  obliged  to  take  her 
choice  of  passing  him  or  appearing  to  slow  down 
purposely.  Being  a  quick-witted  girl  she  did  the 
former,  and  skipped  past  in  a  sort  of  triumphant 
way,  as  if  pleased  at  having  overtaken  him. 

Apparently  Chu-Chu  was  satisfied  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  was  no  harm  in  us,  for 
when  Rosalie  purposely  slowed  down  on  the  incline 
farther  along  he  swept  past  without  so  much  as  a 
glance. 

All  of  this  time  I  had  been  trying  to  study  out 
their  game,  but  without  any  success.  The  relations 
between  Chu-Chu  and  Leontine  had  always  been 
strictly  professional,  with  Ivan  as  intermediary. 
That  is  to  say,  when  Chu-Chu  managed  to  collar 
stones  or  pearls  he  turned  them  over,  or  was  sup 
posed  to  turn  them  over,  to  Ivan,  who  gave  them 
to  Leontine  to  dispose  of.  Why  Chu-Chu  should 
be  lugging  her  off  into  the  country  I  couldn't  imag 
ine,  unless  there  was  some  game  going  that  had 
nothing  to  do  with  me. 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       197 

Chu-Chu's  taxi  was  of  precisely  the  same  make 
and  model  as  Rosalie's,  the  sort  most  in  use  in 
Paris.  But  from  the  way  he  passed  us  I  could  see 
that  he  was  getting  a  good  deal  more  out  of  his 
motor  than  we  were  —  and  this  was  not  surprising 
when  you  come  to  remember  that  Chu-Chu  was  a 
star  driver,  with  a  beautiful  sense  for  any  sort  of 
machinery,  whereas  Rosalie  was  more  or  less  of  a 
novice.  Besides,  her  carburetter  was  working  ir 
regularly,  and  she  was  always  too  impatient  about 
going  into  the  speed  ahead.  I  was  afraid  that  as 
soon  as  we  struck  the  fast  part  of  the  road  beyond 
St.  Cloud  Chu-Chu  might  dig  out  and  leave  us 
wondering.  There  was  also  the  chance  of  his  be 
coming  suspicious  of  us  if  at  the  end  of  several  kilo 
metres  he  found  us  still  on  his  trail.  Rosalie's 
taxi  looked  like  any  other  taxi,  but  Rosalie  herself 
did  not  look  like  any  other  taxi  driver,  and  what  had 
been  at  first  an  advantage  —  for  Chu-Chu  would 
never  suspect  me  of  picking  out  the  most  conspicu 
ous  driver  in  Paris  to  hound  him  —  might  easily 
spoil  the  whole  business. 

So  I  picked  up  the  speaking  tube.  We  were 
working  up  the  last  easy  part  of  the  grade. 

"  Madame  Rosalie,"  I  said. 

"  Eh,  well?  "  she  answered. 

"  I'm  afraid  he  smells  a  rat.  He  is  going  to  try 
to  leave  us  once  we  get  past  the  railroad  crossing." 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  she  answered  tartly. 
"  There  isn't  a  taxi  in  Paris  that  can  make  this  one 
feel  lonely.  Besides,  he  is  carrying  one  more  per 
son." 

"  But  how  about  your  carburetter?  " 


198  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Don't  bother  about  the  carburetter.  It's  all 
right." 

'  Thank  you,"  said  I,  and  hung  up  the  tube. 

Evidently  the  Countess  Rosalie  was  touchy  about 
her  car.  Or  perhaps  she  felt  that  some  slight  com 
pliment  was  due  her,  rather  than  impending  doubts. 
As  if  she  wanted  to  show  what  she  could  do  when 
she  really  tried  she  brushed  the  arm  of  a  bicyclist 
with  her  mudguard,  then  swept  past  a  stone-cart 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  road,  and  got  a  stream 
of  bad  talk  from  the  carter,  to  say  nothing  of  a  nar 
row  escape  from  knocking  the  head  off  the  leader, 
which  swung  to  the  right  from  instinct  at  the  sound 
of  the  motor. 

It  was  a  wasted  effort  of  hers  though,  for  Chu- 
Chu  fooled  us  again.  Instead  of  turning  sharply 
to  the  left  at  the  crossroads  he  held  straight  on, 
slowing  a  bit  to  let  the  stream  of  cars  go  past. 
The  result  was  that  we  drew  up  right  behind  him, 
and  he  looked  back  and  saw  us.  After  we  had  fol 
lowed  him  across  the  big  road  from  Suresnes  to 
Versailles  he  looked  back  again,  then  slowed  down. 

"  Keep  right  on,"  said  I  sharply  to  Rosalie. 

"  I  am  not  a  fool!  "  she  answered,  and  gave  her 
speed-lever  a  vicious  little  jerk.  I  could  feel  the 
three  pairs  of  eyes  on  us  as  we  passed.  It  was  a 
pretty  serious  moment,  and  we  were  in  danger  of 
spoiling  everything,  for  we  had  taken  a  big,  unnec 
essary  detour  from  Paris  to  go  to  any  point  where 
that  road  would  take  us.  There  was  only  one  thing 
to  do,  and  I  did  it.  Leaning  out  of  the  window,  I 
called  to  Rosalie  to  stop.  She  cut  off  the  gas  and 
braked  viciously. 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       199 

"  Pretend  to  be  arguing  about  the  route,"  I  said 
quickly. 

Rosalie  caught  my  drift  and  began  to  gesticulate; 
I  did  the  same.  Chu-Chu  was  coming  up  slowly 
behind. 

'  Turn  round  and  start  back,"  said  I,  and  jerked 
my  head  back  into  the  cab.  Rosalie  stuck  out  a 
gauntleted  arm,  then  hauled  to  the  side  of  the  road. 
Chu-Chu  swept  past  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  He  turned 
a  corner  and  disappeared. 

"What  now?"  asked  Rosalie,  turning  round. 

'  Wait  a  minute,"  I  answered;  "he  suspects. 
We've  got  to  change  places." 

I  slipped  off  the  soutane  and  round  black  hat  and 
stepped  out  into  the  road  in  my  knickers.  Rosalie 
stared  at  me  with  her  lips  like  a  big  red  "  O." 

"Quick,  madame,"  said  I;  "you  must  let  me 
drive." 

"  But  why?  "  she  gasped. 

"  Don't  ask  questions;  I  am  a  chief  of  the  secret 
service.  Do  you  know  who  that  chauffeur  is? 
You  said  his  name  not  long  ago." 

"Not  Chu-Chu?" 

"  Perfectly.  Jump  inside  and  let  me  run  the  car. 
Don't  be  afraid.  I  shall  not  hurt  your  motor." 

Rosalie  obeyed  without  a  word.  I  stepped  up 
and  took  the  wheel,  and  we  were  off. 

Just  as  I  had  feared,  once  given  a  little  start  on  a 
fairly  good  road,  Chu-Chu  was  hard  to  catch.  The 
dust  hanging  in  the  air  showed  that  he  was  not  far 
ahead,  and  I  might  have  overhauled  him  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  our  carburetter,  which  kept  on  flooding 
when  I  cut  off  the  gas  on  curves  and  down  grades, 


200  THE    CLOSING    NET 

so  that  when  we  started  to  climb  the  mixture  was 
too  rich  and  we  were  smothered.  The  only  way 
to  keep  any  speed  was  to  throw  out  the  clutch  and 
let  the  motor  spin  going  down  hill,  and  this  practice 
is  not  the  best  in  the  world  for  the  motor.  Pres 
ently  I  heard  from  Rosalie  on  the  subject. 

'  You'll  soon  heat  up  if  you  keep  on  doing  that," 
said  she  through  the  tube,  "  Reach  down  and  cut 
off  the  essence  from  the  reservoir  when  you  go. 
down  hill." 

That  was  sound  doctrine,  and  I  acted  on  it, 
though  from  this  point  on  the  road  mounts  pretty 
steadily  until  you  get  to  Rocquencourt.  As  we 
passed  the  old  soldiers'  home  I  noticed  that  it  was 
about  five  minutes  to  one.  Rather  to  my  surprise 
we  found  more  motors  on  this  road  than  before  we 
had  reached  the  crossroads.  Three  handsome  cars 
had  passed  us,  and  presently  a  fourth  —  a  big, 
heavy  limousine  —  went  lumbering  by. 

"  That  was  Orelovna,  the  Russian  dancer,"  said 
Rosalie's  voice  in  the  tube  at  my  ear.  "  The  man 
with  her  was  the  Grand  Duke  Alexander.  Those 
people  in  the  torpilleiir  that  passed  a  moment  ago 
were  of  the  Comedie  Francaise  —  at  least  I  recog 
nised  Martet,  and  I  think  the  man  driving  was 
Parodi." 

That  was  all  I  needed  to  know.  The  whole  mys 
tery  was  cleared  up  in  a  flash.  Just  before  you  get 
to  Rocquencourt,  as  you  may  remember,  the  road 
passes  between  two  big  estates  surrounded  by  heavy 
walls  that  inclose  park,  chasse  and  farms.  One  of 
these,  I  remembered,  had  been  rented  by  a  retired 
millionaire  banker  of  Frankfort,  a  Baron  von 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       201 

Hertzfeld,  who  was  a  prominent  figure  in  the 
theatre  and  cafe  life  of  Paris,  and  who  was  prob 
ably  giving  a  big  dejeuner. 

Leontine  was  no  doubt  on  her  way  to  this  func 
tion,  and  very  possibly  Chu-Chu's  associate  was  also 
an  invited  guest.  Chu-Chu,  in  his  character  of 
Monsieur  de  Maxeville,  had  very  likely  received  an 
invitation,  as  I  had  several  times  seen  him  with  Von 
Hertzfeld  and  his  little  group  of  intimates,  for  out 
side  of  Ivan's  mob  Baron  Rosenthal  and  I  were  the 
only  ones  who  knew  that  Monsieur  de  Maxeville 
was  other  than  a  clubman  of  sufficient  fortune,  an 
excellent  companion  and  a  devotee  of  outdoor 
sports. 

But  Chu-Chu,  knowing  that  I  might  even  at  that 
moment  be  hot  on  his  trail,  had  not  cared  to  run 
the  risk  of  sticking  his  head  above  the  surface.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  must  have  some  definite  reason 
for  wishing  to  be  on  the  Hertzfeld  premises  during 
the  luncheon  party.  Either  there  was  some  work 
in  hand  —  another  string  of  pearls  perhaps,  for 
some  of  the  women  guests  would  be  sure  to  be 
decked  out  in  wonders  —  or  else  he  might  want  to 
have  a  look  at  the  house  and  its  surroundings.  He 
would  be  kept  waiting  until  Leontine's  return,  and 
as  a  brave  garcon  of  a  taxi  driver  it  is  not  probable 
that  in  an  establishment  as  lavish  as  Hertzfeld's 
he  would  be  neglected  by  the  butler's  department. 
Hertzfeld  was  a  man  who  handed  out  hundred- 
franc  notes  as  a  tip  for  opening  the  door  of  his  lim 
ousine. 

There  was  no  room  for  any  doubt.  Leontine 
was  bound  for  Baron  von  Hertzfeld's,  and  the  taxi 


202  THE    CLOSING    NET 

would,  of  course,  wait  inside,  so  there  seemed 
nothing  for  me  to  do  but  hang  around  outside  until 
the  party  was  over,  which  would  probably  be  late 
in  the  afternoon.  It  was  to  be  an  elaborate  affair, 
as  two  more  big  cars  swept  past  us,  also  a  couple  of 
taxis. 

Sure  enough,  when  we  reached  the  estate  the  big 
iron  gates  were  wide  open,  and  a  footman  was 
stationed  on  either  side  to  salute  the  guests  as  they 
entered.  I  held  straight  on  and  pulled  up  in  the 
shade  around  the  first  bend.  Here  I  stopped  the 
motor  and,  getting  down,  opened  the  door. 

"Eh,  well?"  asked  Rosalie  a  little  sharply.  I 
don't  think  she  cared  much  for  being  a  passenger  in 
her  own  taxicab. 

I  jerked  my  head  toward  the  corner  of  the  big 
wall.  '  That's  where  they  are,"  I  answered,  "  at 
Baron  von  Hertzfeld's  luncheon  party." 

"Oh!  So  that  is  his  estate?  I  had  heard  that 
he  lived  out  this  way.  What  do  you  want  to  do 
now?" 

14  I  want  to  keep  them  in  view,"  I  answered, 
"  especially  Chu-Chu.  But  I  don't  exactly  see  how 
I'm  to  do  it.  If  we  wait  in  front  of  the  gates  we 
shall  be  too  conspicuous,  and  if  we  wait  here  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  see  them  come  out." 

Rosalie  threw  me  a  peculiar  look.  She  gave  her 
pretty  shoulders  the  slightest  shrug. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  I  asked. 

'  That's  what  I  am  asking  myself,"  said  she  with 
a  little  smile.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  there  are  some 
things  about  this  affair  that  strike  me  as  funny. 
First  you  say  you  are  jealous  of  la  belle  Leontine; 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       203 

then  you  say  that  the  affair  is  all  over  and  done  with 
and  that  you  are  pushed  along  by  a  desire  for  re 
venge.  That  is  easy  to  understand.  It  is  not  dif 
ficult  to  believe,  also,  that  you  have  become  a  mis 
sionary  and  a  predicateur  on  her  account.  Then, 
while  we  are  following  her  you  step  suddenly  out 
of  my  taxi  as  a  comme  II  faut  English  milord,  tell 
ing  me  that  you  are  an  officer  of  the  secret  service 
and  that  the  driver  of  the  taxi  we  are  following  is 
Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur.  That  is  startling  to  hear, 
but  possible  to  believe.  But  now  what  I  do  not 
understand  is,  if  you  are  an  officer  of  the  secret  serv 
ice  and  the  driver  of  that  taxi  is  Chu-Chu,  why 
don't  you  go  in  and  arrest  him?  If  you  do  not  care 
to  attempt  it  alone  there  is  a  station  of  the  gendar 
merie  nationale  not  very  far  away." 

"  Madame  Rosalie,"  I  answered,  "  there  is  but 
one  way  to  arrest  Chu-Chu,  and  that  way  requires 
but  one  person  and  no  assistants.  Such  a  person  as 
our  friend  Chu-Chu  should  be  shot  first  and  arrested 
afterward.  But  this  is  something  that  one  dislikes 
to  undertake  in  a  crowd." 

She  gave  me  that  peculiar  look  that  had  already 
puzzled  me. 

"  And  is  it  for  that  that  you  are  following  him?  " 
she  asked. 

"  I  wish  to  take  him  single-handed,"  I  answered. 
"  Of  course,  if  he  resists  -  I  shrugged. 

"  But,"  I  added,  "  I  want  to  do  it  as  quietly  as  pos 
sible.  It  is  a  very  bad  thing  for  everybody  when 
the  taking  of  a  notorious  criminal  is  attended  with 
a  lot  of  noise." 

"  And  makes  it  necessary  to  divide  the  credit  of 


204  THE    CLOSING    NET 

his  capture,"  said  Rosalie,  giving  me  one  of  her  in 
telligent  looks.  "  You  would  like  to  arrest  him 
without  any  help  from  outside,  but  are  not  quite 
sure  that  you  could  manage  it.  Well,  then " 
she  turned  away  and  began  to  unfasten  the  hood  of 
the  motor—  "  while  you  are  trying  to  make  up  your 
mind  let  us  see  if  we  can't  do  something  to  correct 
the  trouble  in  the  carburetter." 

I  stepped  over  to  lend  a  hand,  for  there  was  no 
hurry,  and  I  liked  being  with  Rosalie.  It  wasn't 
hard  to  guess  at  what  she  thought.  She  had  me 
sized  up  as  a  jealous  lover  of  Leontine's.  She 
thought  that  I  had  been  giving  her  a  lot  of  guff, 
and  was  really  a  theatrical  sort  of  fool  who  had  put 
on  a  priest's  hat  and  a  soutane  over  my  outing 
clothes,  and  had  sat  down  in  the  cafe  opposite  Leon- 
tine's  house  to  watch  for  whatever  might  happen. 

But  what  did  puzzle  her,  as  I  could  see  from  her 
attitude  toward  me,  was  to  determine  whether  I  was 
a  gentleman  or  merely  some  cheap  imitation.  You 
see,  though  the  blood  in  me  is  about  as  good  as 
you'll  find,  even  if  it  never  paid  duty,  my  early  edu 
cation  was  a  queer  one;  and  though  I  can  act  the 
part  of  swell,  and  often  have,  to  the  point  of  mak 
ing  it  mighty  expensive  for  a  critical  audience,  it's 
usually  a  part  that  I'm  playing.  Then  my  speech 
puzzled  Rosalie,  for  I  can  talk  the  most  affected 
society  Parisian  or  the  toughest  La  Villette  argot 
and  never  change  my  gait.  Tante  Fi-Fi  started  me 
with  pure  French,  and  I'd  perfected  it  later  work 
ing  society  graft,  and  Tante  Fi-Fi  had  been  a  swell  in 
her  day;  the  second  was  a  sort  of  post-graduate 
course  in  the  University  of  Cayenne,  to  which  I 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       205 

earned  a  scholarship  from  the  French  Government 
by  getting  nabbed  while  trying  to  lift  Kharkov's 
wad  at  Auteuil  a  couple  of  years  before. 

So  it  wasn't  surprising  that  Rosalie  had  some 
trouble  to  place  me,  or  that  she  began  to  get  a  little 
suspicious  and  resentful  about  the  way  I  had  com 
mandeered  her  motor  and  herself.  She  seemed  a 
little  sulky  as  we  leaned  together  over  the  carbu 
retter,  but  it  wasn't  in  her  nature  to  wear  a  grouch 
for  long,  and  when  I  had  located  the  trouble  in  the 
feed-pipe  and  got  it  cleaned  out  and  flowing 
properly  again  her  smile  had  come  back,  and  we 
seemed  to  be  getting  to  be  friends  again. 

There  was  no  hurry  about  anything  for  the  pres 
ent,  as  Leontine  would  be  at  Hertzfeld's  for  the 
n.ext  three  hours  or  so,  and  I  was  pretty  sure  that 
Chu-Chu  would  wait  to  take  her  home.  Besides,  a 
plan  was  buzzing  round  in  my  head,  and  I  wanted 
to  study  it  out  a  bit.  This  was  a  scheme  for  com 
ing  to  grips  with  Chu-Chu  by  letting  him  spot  me 
and  do  the  stalking  himself.  It  was  a  scheme  that 
I  felt  pretty  sure  would  work,  and  was  rather  like 
hunting  a  tiger  by  ramming  round  through  the 
jungle  at  night,  pretending  to  be  a  sheep  or  a  kid. 

But  to  work  it  right  I  needed  Rosalie's  help,  and 
although  I  could  not  see  how  she  would  be  in  any 
danger  herself,  I  wanted  her  to  know  and  believe 
just  what  I  was  up  against.  So  as  soon  as  we  had 
finished  with  the  carburetter  I  said: 

"  Madame,  I  am  afraid  that  you  don't  believe 
what  I  have  told  you  about  this  affair.  Some  of 
the  things  I  have  said  were  true  and  some  were  not. 
I  have  now  formed  a  plan,  but  before  going  ahead 


206  THE    CLOSING    NET 

with  it  I  wish  to  tell  you  more  about  the  situation, 
and  I  will  ask  you  to  believe  me,  as  I  shall  tell  you 
nothing  but  the  truth.  After  hearing  it,  if  you 
would  prefer  not  to  be  mixed  up  in  the  business  you 
have  only  to  say  so,  when  I  will  pay  you  for  your 
services  up  to  this  point,  and  you  may  return  to 
Paris." 

Rosalie  gave  me  one  of  her  bright,  searching 
looks. 

"  Monsieur  is  fond  of  romance,"  said  she. 
"  Well,  then,  so  am  I.  Tell  me  the  story,  if  you 
please.  Are  you  D'Artagnan,  and  is  La  Petrovski 
Milady?  And  if  I  help  you  what  is  to  be  my  re 
ward?" 

She  seated  herself  on  the  cool,  shaded  bank, 
clasped  her  hands  in  front  of  her  knees,  and  looked 
up  at  me  with  a  mocking  little  smile.  I  flung  my 
self  down  beside  her,  for  the  day  was  hot  and  the 
grass  sweet  and  cool. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  I,  "  let  me  tell  you  that 
the  man  who  drove  La  Petrovski's  taxi  is  certainly 
Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur.  Of  that  there  can  be  no 
doubt." 

Rosalie  raised  her  eyebrows.  She  looked  in 
credulous  yet  startled. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  happen  to  know  him," 
I  went  on,  "  but  I  have  every  reason  to  think  that 
Chu-Chu  has  sworn  to  take  my  life.  It  is,  in  fact, 
on  that  account  that  he  is  in  disguise,  for  I  will  tell 
you  another  thing  that  many  people  suspect  but 
few  know  for  a  certainty.  This  clever  thief  and 
murderer  called  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur  is  actually  a 
man  very  well  known  and  well  received  in  Paris 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       207 

society.  If  I  were  to  tell  you  his  name  you  would 
probably  know  at  once  who  he  is." 

Rosalie's  red  lips  parted  and  her  breath  came 
faster. 

"  Some  time  ago,"  I  continued,  "  I  discovered 
Chu-Chu's  identity.  We  have  also  quarrelled,  and 
there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  in  my  mind  that  he 
has  put  aside  all  other  interests  to  try  to  find  and 
murder  me.  It  is  on  this  account  that  I  shaved  my 
head,  put  on  goggles  and  a  soutane,  and  took  to 
watching  Leontine's  house  from  the  Bon  Cocher. 
In  his  life  of  man-about-town  Chu-Chu  knew  that 
I  had  been  attentive  to  La  Petrovski,  and  has 
probably  been  hanging  about  there  with  his  taxicab 
either  in  the  hope  of  my  taking  him  for  a  course  or 
perhaps  merely  to  locate  me.  You  see,  as  soon  as 
I  learned  of  my  danger  I  gave  it  out  that  I  had  left 
the  country,  then  disguised  myself  and  set  out  to 
watch  Chu-Chu." 

Rosalie's  pretty  face  was  pale  with  excitement, 
and  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"You  are  really  serious?"  she  cried,  plead 
ingly. 

"  I  wish  that  I  were  not." 

"And  are  you  yourself  of  the  police?" 

''No;  I  told  you  that  when  I  slipped  off  my 
preacher's  rig  so  that  you  would  not  make  any  dif 
ficulty  about  going  on.  I  am  a  private  citizen  and 
in  the  motor  business.  All  that  I  ask  is  to  be  left 
in  peace,  but  Chu-Chu  will  not  do  that,  for  two 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  he  hates  me  for  having 
spoiled  a  good  job  of  his;  in  the  second,  he  considers 
my  assassination  necessary  to  his  own  safety." 


208  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  But  if  this  is  so,  and  you  can  identify  him  as 
Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur,  why  do  you  not  go  to  the 
police  and  have  him  taken?  " 

"  Because,"  I  answered  slowly,  "  Chu-Chu  is  the 
leading  light  of  a  very  powerful  criminal  organisa 
tion.  To  denounce  Chu-Chu  would  be  to  involve 
others,  and  in  that  case  I  probably  should  not  live 
long  enough  to  drink  a  petit  verre.  But  Chu-Chu 
himself  is  not  in  very  good  favour  with  the  gang, 
and  nobody  would  hold  it  against  me  if  I  were  to 
settle  my  affair  with  him  quietly." 

'You  wish ?"  gasped  Rosalie. 

"  I  wish  to  protect  myself." 

She  glanced  at  my  face,  then  drew  back  a  little, 
pale  and  her  breath  coming  quickly.  But  the  fas 
cinated  look  I  had  observed  in  the  cafe  was  there 
again. 

"What  do  you  want  to  do?"  she  asked  almost 
in  a  whisper;  and  her  hazel  eyes  never  left  my  face. 
"And  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  She  moist 
ened  her  lips  with  her  tongue. 

"  My  plan  is  this:  In  about  an  hour,  or,  say,  an 
hour  and  a  half,  I  want  you  to  drive  me,  dressed  as 
I  am  now,  into  the  Hertzfeld  place.  I  will  tell  the 
maitre  d'hotel  that  I  am  a  journalist,  a  correspond 
ent  of  some  English  paper,  and  ask  to  be  favoured 
with  a  list  of  the  guests,  the  menu,  and,  if  possible, 
a  few  words  with  the  Baron.  This  ought  not  to 
be  difficult,  as  he  is  nouveau  riche  and  his  title  a  re 
cently  purchased  one,  and  he  likes  notoriety. 
While  in  there  I  will  contrive  to  let  Chu-Chu  get  a 
glimpse  of  me.  He  will  recognise  me  at  once,  but 
I  shall  pretend  not  to  have  seen  him.  Chu-Chu 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       209 

will  think  that  I  have  come  in  the  hope  of  a  word 
with  Leontine,  whose  house  I  might  be  afraid  to 
visit.  Then,  unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken,  when 
we  leave  Chu-Chu  will  follow  us." 

"To  learn  where  you  live?" 

"  Yes,  and  possibly  even  to  make  an  attack  on 
the  road.  That  is  what  we  must  avoid." 

"  Mon  Dleu!     But  how?" 

"  We  must  not  let  him  catch  us  until  we  reach 
the  forest  of  Marly.  It  begins  less  than  a  kilo 
metre  from  here.  We  shall  have  a  sufficient  start 
to  keep  ahead  for  that  distance.  Once  in  the  wood 
I  shall  jump  out  and  walk  into  the  trees.  If  Chu- 
Chu  follows  me  we  will  settle  our  difficulties  then 
and  there." 

Poor  Rosalie  looked  scared  to  death.  I  waited 
for  a  minute,  expecting  to  hear  her  say  that  she 
wanted  nothing  to  do  with  the  whole  business.  In 
stead  of  that,  after  a  minute  of  reflection: 

"  Do  you  think  that  he  will  believe  that  I  know?  " 
she  asked. 

"  If  I  thought  that  for  a  single  second,"  said  I, 
quickly,  "  I  should  walk  into  that  place  and  shoot 
him  off  the  seat  of  his  taxi  before  I  would  permit 
you  to  have  any  hand  in  it.  No;  Chu-Chu  will 
believe  that  I  chose  you  either  by  chance  or  because 
I  should  naturally  expect  him  to  think  that  the  last 
person  I  would  choose  should  be  the  most  easily 
traced  taxi  in  Paris.  He  would  never  for  a  second 
dream  that  I  had  taken  you  into  my  confidence. 
Besides,  he  would  never  believe  that  if  you  knew 
what  was  going  on  you  would  dare  tackle  it." 

She  dropped  her  hands  at  her  sides,  straightened 


210  THE    CLOSING    NET 

out  her  pretty  limbs,  and  took  a  deep  breath.  I 
looked  at  her  admiringly,  for  it  was  plain  that  she 
was  frightened  and  was  making  a  plucky  fight  to 
get  the  upper  hand  of  her  scare.  Lithe  as  a  cat, 
she  twisted  over  presently  on  one  hip,  dropped  her 
chin  on  her  knuckles,  her  elbow  on  the  sward,  and 
began  to  pluck  at  the  grass.  Neither  of  us  said 
anything.  Her  long  reflection  made  me  begin  to 
believe  that  she  was  wondering,  perhaps,  what  there 
was  going  to  be  in  it  for  her  in  mixing  up  with  such 
an  ugly  business.  That  idea  was  in  my  own  mind, 
and  I  had  decided  to  offer  her  a  thousand  francs 
for  the  afternoon's  work  and  four  thousand  more  to 
be  paid  later  if  the  business  turned  out  all  right  for 
me.  I  really  did  not  see  how  Rosalie  ran  any  risk, 
especially  as  I  should  be  taking  good  care  not  to 
let  Chu-Chu  haul  up  very  close  to  us.  And,  any 
way,  she  was  free  to  turn  the  proposition  down  if 
she  chose. 

Rosalie  rolled  back,  put  a  stem  of  grass  between 
her  lips,  and  turned  to  me  with  the  colour  in  her 
cheeks  again.  I  expected  to  hear  her  ask: 
"  What  do  I  get?  "  or  words  to  that  effect.  Instead 
she  asked: 

"  You  are  well  armed?  " 

I  grinned,  and  nodded.  A  few  minutes  before 
she  had  been  advising  me  rather  sarcastically  to  get 
a  troop  or  two  of  the  gendarmerie  nationale  to  help 
me  out;  now  she  was  worrying  about  my  arma 
ment. 

"  Don't  you  bother  about  me,"  I  answered. 
"  Think  about  yourself  a  little.  After  all,  you 
aren't  in  the  motor  business  for  your  health." 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       211 

We  were  speaking  in  French,  of  course.  I  had  no 
earthly  reason  for  suspecting  Rosalie  of  knowing 
any  other  language,  as,  for  all  her  title,  she  had 
nothing  of  the  grande  dame  about  her,  and  might 
have  been  a  farmer's  daughter  or  run  a  decent  little 
restaurant,  so  far  as  distinction  went.  But  when 
I  said,  "  You're  not  in  the  motor  business  for  your 
health,"  I  translated  the  American  slang  literally. 
Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  most  slang  translates 
literally  from  one  language  to  another,  and  it  has 
often  surprised  me  when  I've  been  in  the  States  to 
hear  some  local  mug  that  had  never  got  farther 
from  his  alley  than  the  first  full  gutter,  spouting 
what  was  considered  the  very  latest  hot  talk,  and 
what  I've  recognised  straight  off  as  good  old  moth- 
eaten,  fly-bitten  Montmartre  or  La  Villette.  If 
some  person  with  a  lot  of  time  on  his  hands  wanted 
to  take  the  trouble  he  could  dig  up  an  old  English 
or  old  German  or  old  French  gag  for  the  bulk  of 
American  slang.  I  can  only  think  of  a  few  this 
minute.  For  instance,  "  to  have  a  good  front," 
avoir  du  front;  "  chippy,"  chiple;  the  word  French 
crooks  have  for  prison,  couloir  —  corridor  —  and, 
in  American,  "the  cooler";  or  to  get  right  down 
to  recent  American  slang,  not  over  five  years  old, 
"  gink/'  The  apache  French  for  that,  and  old  as 
the  hills,  too,  is  ging,  and  comes  from  the  word 
ginguet,  which  means  a  soft,  easy  mark.  So,  mind 
you,  what  I  said  to  Rosalie  about  not  running  a 
taxi  for  her  health  might  have  been  said  in  French 
slang  in  exactly  the  same  way.  Maybe  my  way 
of  putting  it  was  the  American  one,  for  she 
stared  at  me  for  a  second,  then  answered  in  per- 


212  THE    CLOSING    NET 

fectly    good    American:     "Not    on    your    life!" 

I  felt  like  a  fool.  Some  years  before  I'd  worked 
Kansas  City  until  I  thought  that  the  ground  needed 
to  lie  fallow  for  a  while,  and  I  was  on  to  the  accent. 
I'd  been  a  "  distinguished  foreign  guest,"  and  the 
leading  citizens  trimmed  me  at  poker  while  I  was 
making  myself  popular  and  finding  out  wrhere  they 
kept  it.  When  I  was  all  fed  up  with  the  place  I 
worked  a  couple  of  banks,  then  ran  over  to  Monte 
to  give  it  away  to  the  Prince  of  Monaco,  for  you 
mustn't  forget  that  the  greatest  rest  for  the  grafter 
is  to  become  a  happy,  idle  sucker  for  a  while.  That 
is  the  reason  why  so  many  American  millionaires 
go  to  Europe  for  their  vacations. 

So  when  Rosalie  came  back  at  me  with  that  "  Not 
on  your  life!"  and  no  mistake  about  the  "  your- 
r-r-r,"  I  was  about  as  startled  as  if  Chu-Chu  had 
stuck  his  head  over  the  wall  behind  us  —  which 
belonged,  I  believe,  to  Prince  Marat.  No  French 
woman  could  have  got  that  accent,  any  more  than 
an  American  woman  could  ever  hope  to  pronounce 
the  simple  French  word  for  "  king." 

Rosalie  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed.  She 
was  mighty  inviting  to  look  at  when  she  laughed, 
and  I  got  an  impression  of  soft  throat,  moist  red 
mouth,  and  her  tantalising  eyes  looking  down  half- 
closed  over  her  cheeks.  I  must  have  looked  like  a 
fool,  because  she  laughed  harder  than  ever;  in  fact, 
she  laughed  too  hard  for  just  ordinary  amusement. 

Suddenly  she  straightened  up  and  wiped  her  eyes. 
She  had  laughed  so  hard  that  she  had  slipped  down 
the  bank,  and  her  short  skirt  was  drawn  up  over  her 
knees,  and  this  and  the  dimpled  face  made  her  look 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       213 

like  a  little  girl  hot  and  flushed  after  some  frolic. 
"  Well,"  said  I,  as  she  straightened  her  skirt  and 
pushed  back  her  hair,  "  that's  one  on  me  all  right. 
I've  taken  the  elementary  courses  in  human  nature 
and  knocked  around  the  world  a  bit,  but  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  could  ever  have  spotted  you  for  an 
American !  " 

"  Wichita,"  said  she. 

"The  rest  wasn't  hard  to  guess,"  I  answered; 
"  but  how  did  you  manage  to  spot  me  for  an  Ameri 
can?" 

"  I  had  my  doubts  from  the  first,"  she  answered. 
"  Your  telling  me  that  you  were  Alsatian  put  me 
off ;  then  I  thought  you  were  English.  I  knew 
you  weren't  French  French." 

"  What  gave  you  the  clue  finally?  "  I  asked. 
"  Your  business  methods." 
"My  what?" 

'''  Your  scheme  for  drawing  Chu-Chu  off  into  the 
forest  of  Marly  and  having  it  out  with  your  guns 
—  or  knives,  or  whatever  comes  handy.  That 
doesn't  match  up  with  the  local  colour.  What's 
your  State?  Arizona?" 

'  I've  been  there,"  I  answered;  "  but  never  mind 
about  me.  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  how  it  happens  that 
a  Wichita  girl  should  be  driving  a  Paris  taxicab 
and  speaking  French  like  a  Parisienne  de  Paris. 
Then  you  are  titled,  too." 

Rosalie  gave  a  little  mock  sigh.  "  Such  is 
fame,"  says  she.  "  Now,  if  you  ever  read  the 
Matin  and  the  Kansas  City  Star  you'd  know  all 
about  me.  Not  that  there's  such  an  awful  lot  to 
know.  My  father  was  Mr.  Michael  O'Rourke, 


2i4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

and  he  emigrated  from  Ireland  to  Chicago,  where 
he  started  in  business  driving  a  cab.  You  see,  it's 
a  sort  of  inherited  gift.  Pretty  soon  he  owned 
most  of  the  cabs,  and  then  he  owned  a  street-car 
line  and  a  good  bit  of  the  city,  and  a  lot  of  the  peo 
ple  in  it.  But  he  stayed  Mike  O'Rourke,  and  when 
he  married  my  mother  there  was  an  awful  row  from 
all  the  old  snobs.  Mother  was  proud,  and  asked 
odds  of  nobody,  but  a  few  years  later  they  went  to 
Wichita,  where  I  was  born.  Mother  never  forgave 
the  people  who  turned  her  down  for  marrying  be 
neath  her,  so  as  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  she  sent 
me  to  a  French  convent,  saying  that  she  wasn't 
going  to  have  me  grow  up  a  snob.  The  last  year 
that  I  was  in  the  convent  mother  and  father  were 
both  killed  in  a  railway  collision  " —  Rosalie 
blinked  a  few  times  —  "  and  I  went  home  and  found 
myself  a  mighty  lonesome  heiress.  Then  my 
mother's  sister  came  over  for  the  winter  and 
brought  me  with  her,  and  while  we  were  away  her 
husband  took  such  good  care  of  my  estate  that  in 
a  few  months  there  was  nothing  left  of  it  but  enough 
to  give  me  a  fairly  decent  dot.  To  compensate  for 
what  her  husband  had  done  my  aunt  made  what  she 
considered  a  very  good  match  for  me  with  the 
Comte  de  Brignolles.  Of  course,  being  convent- 
bred,  it  never  occurred  to  me  to  object,  so  we  were 
married,  and  started  off  on  our  honeymoon,  and  — 
and  " —  Rosalie's  face  got  crimson  — "  and  five 
minutes  after  we  had  left  my  aunt's  I  found  that  I 
loathed  him,  so  I  stopped  the  motor  and  got  out 
and  jumped  into  a  taxi,  and  went  straight  to  where 
the  Mother  Superior  lived;  for  the  convent  had  been 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       215 

closed  by  this  beautiful  Government,  and  the  nuns 
driven  away.  I  stopped  with  Soeur  Anne  Marie, 
and  my  aunt  was  furious,  and  wouldn't  see  me,  and 
the  Comte  got  a  separation  and  my  dot.  A  year 
ago  he  died,  and  his  lawyers  kindly  gave  me  back 
what  he  hadn't  gambled  away  —  about  fifteen  thou 
sand  francs.  It  wasn't  enough  to  go  on  long,  and 
about  that  time  the  Prefecture  decided  to  issue  per 
mits  for  women  taxi  drivers,  so  I  bought  my  little 
car  and,  went  to  work.  You  see,  I'd  learned  to 
drive  after  leaving  the  convent,  and  I  liked  it,  and 
I  must  say  I  haven't  done  so  badly."  She  looked  at 
me  and  smiled. 

'  You're  a  wonder,"  said  I.  "  Now  let  me  tell 
you  something.  I'm  going  to  square  up  with  you 
for  our  promenade,  and  then  I  want  you  to  get  into 
that  little  taxi  of  yours  and  spin  back  to  Soeur  Anne 
Marie  as  fast  as  God  will  let  you.  You  still  live 
with  her,  I  hope?  " 

Rosalie  shoved  out  her  little  chin.  '  That  is 
none  of  your  affair,"  says  she. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  answered.  "  I  said  it 
out  of  pure  friendly  interest.  You  see,  a  girl  in 
your  position  is  like  a  pheasant  in  the  hunting  sea 
son,  and  I'd  like  to  feel  that  you  had  a  high  fence 
that  you  could  fly  over  and  be  unmolested  if  you  had 
need." 

Her  face  softened.  "  Well,  then,"  says  she,  "  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  have  taken  a  little 
apartment  for  Soeur  Anne  Marie  and  myself,  and 
I  go  straight  there  as  soon  as  ever  my  work  is  over. 
I'm  my  own  mistress  and  can  do  as  I  please,  but 
sometimes  it's  hard  to  finish  up  and  go  home.  You 


216  THE    CLOSING    NET 

can  wait  for  an  hour  or  so  on  a  stand,  then  get  a 
little  twenty-sou  fare  and  start  home,  and  the 
chances  are  that  if  you're  very  tired  and  your  lamps 
need  filling,  and  you're  not  quite  sure  about  one  of 
your  envelopes,  and  the  bougie  is  full  of  burned  oil, 
and  a  little  grease  has  got  into  the  clutch  and  is 
making  it  slip,  and  Socur  Anne  Marie  is  waiting  for 
you  to  come  in  and  make  the  omelette,  that  is  just 
the  time  that  you'll  be  hailed  by  three  or  four  Ameri 
can  college  boys  who  want  to  run  out  to  Versailles 
ci  Fontainebleau  for  dinner.  And  you  can't  re 
fuse." 

"Why  not?"  I  asked. 

"  Because,  for  one  thing,  I  can't  afford  to.  Be 
sides,  they  make  me  homesick.  I  always  have  a 
fight  to  keep  them  from  digging  into  their  jeans  and 
giving  me  all  the  money  they've  got.  Of  course,  I 
never  let  them  guess  that  I'm  American,  too.  Only 
last  week  a  youngster  sat  beside  me  coming  in  from 
Chantilly.  He  offered  me  a  hundred  francs  for  a 
good-night  kiss.  I  told  him  that  he  could  have  the 
kiss  for  nothing  if  he'd  promise  to  go  straight  home 
and  go  to  bed.  What  do  you  think  he  did?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  say,"  I  answered;  and  maybe  my 
voice  was  a  bit  nasty,  for  somehow  or  other  I 
wasn't  very  keen  at  the  thought  of  this  nice  little 
girl  being  mauled  and  jollied  by  a  batch  of  cub  col 
legians. 

Rosalie  pushed  out  her  lips  and  chin.  "  You 
needn't  be  afraid,"  she  said.  "  He  thanked  me 
very  nicely,  and  when  we  got  to  the  Champs  Elysees 
he  said:  '  I'll  claim  my  forfeit  now.  Stop  at  the 
Carlton.'  I  was  awfully  upset,  because,  you  see, 


THE    COUNTESS    ROSALIE       217 

he'd  called  my  bluff,  and  I  didn't  like  to  cheapen 
myself  before  the  concierges  and  chauffeurs.  But 
I  had  to  make  good,  so  I  turned  in  under  the  mar 
quise  to  let  him  out.  Instead  of  trying  to  kiss  me 
he  got  down,  walked  round  to  my  side  —  and  kissed 
my  hand,  or  my  glove.  Then  he  went  in  and  went 
to  bed." 

"  And  the  next  day?  "  I  asked. 

Rosalie's  colour  was  like  a  big  crimson  dahlia. 

"  He  had  less  sense  when  he  was  sober  than  when 
he  was  drunk,"  she  answered,  and  laughed;  "but 
he's  safely  on  the  way  to  his  fiancee  in  Newport 
now,  so  it's  all  right.  He'll  always  think  of  the 
little  French  chauffeuse  who  gave  him  such  good  ad 
vice,  and  asked  no  more  than  what  was  indicated 
on  the  '  clock,'  as  those  boys  called  it." 

Rosalie  stopped  talking  and  looked  thoughtful. 
I  was  a  bit  thoughtful  myself. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  suppose  you  look  at  the  clock 
and  tell  me  what  time  it  is  in  louis.  It's  time  that 
you  were  getting  back  to  Soeur  Anne  Marie  —  and 
that  I  was  getting  on  the  job." 

Rosalie  looked  at  me  with  her  queer  little  smile. 

"  You  engaged  me  for  the  afternoon,"  said  she. 
"  I'm  no  quitter,  as  they  say  in  Wichita." 

"  That's  plain  enough,"  I  answered,  "  but  I  am. 
How  much  do  I  owe  you?" 

"  A  little  straight  talk,"  she  answered. 

"  You're  right  there,"  I  answered,  "  and  you  shall 
have  it."  Perhaps  it  was  the  strain  of  the  last 
week  or  two,  or  perhaps  it  was  the  knowledge  that 
things  were  coming  to  a  focus.  Maybe  Rosalie  had 
something  to  do  with  it.  Anyway,  said  I : 


218  THE    CLOSING    NET 

'  What  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  you  were  talk 
ing  to  a  crook?  " 

Rosalie  gave  me  a  steady  look. 

"  I  wouldn't  believe  you,"  she  answered.  "  But 
if  you  were  to  tell  me  that  I  was  talking  to  a  man 
that  was  settling  off  old  scores" — she  smiled — "I 
think  I'm  on,"  says  she,  "  and  I  stand  pat." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    FIRST   ROUND 

THERE  was  no  use  in  trying  to  send  Rosalie  back 
to  Paris.  She  wouldn't  go.  The  girl  was  no  fool; 
and,  totting  up  what  she'd  seen  and  what  I'd  told 
her,  and  making  a  good  fore-and-aft  guess  at  the 
rest,  she  came  pretty  near  piping  down  the  situa 
tion. 

"  As  I  dope  it  out,"  says  she,  sitting  there  on  the 
edge  of  the  bank  with  her  round  knees  cuddled 
under  her  clasped  hands,  "  there's  a  feud  between 
you  and  this  Chu-Chu  person  —  and  it's  coming  to 
a  head.  Now  let  me  tell  you  something;  there's 
been  only  one  time  in  my  life  when  I've  started 
something  that  I  couldn't  finish,  and  that  was 
my  marriage  to  De  Brignolles,  I  don't  know 
whether  you're  what  they  call  a  '  grafter  '  over  there 
at  home,  or  whether  you're  a  sort  of  Arsene  Lupin 
or  Sherlock  Holmes,  or  what  you  are.  At  first  I 
thought  you  were  a  jealous  lover;  then  I  thought 
you  were  a  secret  service  man;  then  I  thought 
you  were  a  liar."  Rosalie  looked  at  me  sort  of 
doubtfully. 

"  What  do  you  think  I  am  now?  "  I  asked. 

She  smiled  a  little  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  don't  care 
very  much;  but  you're  an  American,  and  you're  up 
against  something  that  is  very  difficult,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  scud  off  and  save  myself." 

219 


220  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Let  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  I  wanted  to  reach  over 
and  gather  the  girl  in  and  kiss  her.  She  was  a 
little  brick.  Here  she  was,  a  girl  who  had  spent 
two-thirds  of  her  life  in  France  and  had  her  ups  and 
downs  in  both  countries,  yet  had  never  been 
smirched  —  you  had  only  to  look  at  her  to  see  that 
—  and  had  kept  ideals. 

"  Look  here,  Rosalie,"  said  I,  "  you're  the  best 
little  girl  in  all  the  world,  and  I  feel  that  I'm  going 
to  be  a  better  man  for  having  known  that  there 
really  are  some  like  you.  I've  only  been  up  against 
one  in  my  life,  and  she  thinks  I'm  all  wrong —  and 
I  don't  blame  her.  Now  it  ain't  included  in  my 
route-card  to  bring  trouble  to  the  only  two  really 
unselfish  women  that  I  ever  met;  so  you  and  I  are 
due  to  part  immediatement.  You  said  a  minute  or 
two  ago,  'That's  all  you  get  for  being  famous'; 
so  there's  no  kick  coming  if  you  don't  recognise 
me  when  I  tell  you  one  or  two  of  my  old  business 
names.  Until  a  month  or  so  ago,  when  I  went  on 
the  level  for  my  own  good  reasons,  I  was  about  as 
slick  a  thief  as  ever  tried  to  collect  what  he  thought 
the  world  owed  him.  The  police  in  New  York  and 
Chicago,  and  London  and  Frankfort  —  and  even 
'way  off  there  in  St.  Louis,  where  they  love  a  thief 
until  he's  pinched  almost  as  much  as  they  do  here 
in  Paris  —  would  feel  real  broken  up  if  they  knew 
I'd  chucked  graft.  Maybe  you  never  heard  of 
Frank  Clamart,  alias  the  '  Tide-water  Clam,'  alias 
'  The  Swell,'  alias  '  Sir  Frankie,'  and  a  few 
others?  " 

Rosalie   looked   embarrassed. 

"  No,"  says  she.     "  I  never  had  a  chance  to  see 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  221 

the  papers  in  the  convent."  She  looked  at  me  and 
laughed  outright.  "  That  squares  us,  doesn't  it? 
So  it  was  an  old  score,  just  as  I  thought." 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  it's  not  an  old  score.  It's 
a  brand-new  one.  It  all  happened  after  I'd  chucked 
graft  and  passed  my  word  to  —  to " 

"Leontine?" 

"Faugh!"  said  I. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  says  Rosalie,  and  the  smile 
had  clean  gone  out  of  her  face. 

"  Look  here,  little  girl,"  said  I,  quick  as  a  flash; 
"  don't  think  for  a  second  that  I'm  pretending  to  be 
in  love  again.  I'm  not.  The  woman  I  passed  my 
word  to  is  the  wife  of  my  half-brother,  and  she's 
not  like  the  rest  of  us  down  here." 

"  Hush !  "  says  Rosalie.  "  You  needn't  shout. 
I  understand.  Soeur  Anne  Marie  is  that  kind. 
Just  knowing  them  makes  the  rest  of  us  who  have 
naughty  thoughts  and  too  many  feelings  and  a  cer 
tain  amount  of  honesty  feel  that,  after  all,  it's  worth 
while  to  kick  along.  Don't  you  think  so?  " 

'  Yes,"  I  answered.  "  You're  on,  my  dear. 
And  now,  after  what  I  have  told  you,  I  fancy  you 
won't  mind  climbing  up  on  that  seat  and  twisting 
your  little  waggon  back  to  Paris.  If  you  start  right 
now  you'll  just  about  get  to  the  Champs  Elysees  in 
time  to  take  some  of  the  boys  to  a  different  bar. 
Will  a  hundred  francs  cover  our  account?" 

I  spoke  roughly  on  purpose,  because  I  wanted  her 
to  flare  up  and  clear.  Here  was  a  nice  little 
woman,  and  an  American  at  that,  who  had  had 
troubles  enough  of  her  own;  so  I  spoke  to  her  as  if 
what  I  said  could  have  only  one  possible  answer. 


222  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Instead  of  acting  up  as  I  had  counted,  however, 
she  gave  me  a  quiet  little  smile  and  answered: 

"  Do  I  strike  you  as  the  sort  to  file  away  and 
leave  a  fellow  American  in  a  bad  corner?  Not 
much !  You've  engaged  me  for  the  whole  after 
noon,  and  it's  not  yet  two  o'clock.  What  you  are 
after,  as  I  dope  it  out,  is  to  draw  the  fire  of  this 
Chu-Chu  person.  You  want  to  make  sure  that  he 
means  business,  and  you  think  that,  if  he  does,  the 
sooner  you  liquidate  the  better.  Well,  the  forest 
of  Marly  is  just  the  place  for  two  people  with  your 
trouble.  And"  —she  glanced  at  me  and  a  sort  of 
warmth  came  into  her  eyes  — "  I'm  not  worrying 
myself  to  death  over  the  result.  You  look  as  if  you 
could  manage  to  take  care  of  yourself." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  It  won't  do,  Rosalie,"  I  answered.  "  If  Chu- 
Chu  should  happen  to  know  that  you  were  an 
American  he  would  suspect  you  of  working  with  me 
or  trying  to  help.  He's  as  revengeful  as  a  Pathan, 
and  there's  no  telling  what  he  might  do  to  you  after 
ward.  Besides,  he's  seen  you  once  to-day,  and  if 
he  were  to  catch  sight  of  you  again  he  might  get 
suspicious.  I'll  manage  some  other  way.  I've  got 
a  little  scheme.  It  may  not  work,  but  there's  no 
great  harm  in  trying  it.  If  you're  interested  to 
know  how  it  pans  out  drop  into  the  Bon  Cocher  at 
about  noon  to-morrow." 

She  saw  that  I  meant  it,  so  she  gave  in;  and  I 
thanked  her  and  squared  up.  Rosalie  would  let 
me  pay  her  only  the  regular  amount  and  the  regular 
tip  for  an  out-of-town  course.  Then  we  shook 
hands  and  she  stepped  up  to  her  seat  when  I 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  223 

cranked  the  motor;  and  she  moved  slowly  off  in  the 
direction  of  Paris.  I  had  made  a  bundle  of 
my  predicateur  costume  and  carried  it  under  my 
arm. 

So  back  down  the  road  I  went  and  in  through  the 
big  gates,  which  had  been  left  open  —  though,  the 
guests  having  all  arrived,  the  footmen  had  gone  up 
to  the  house.  The  place  was  a  very  handsome  one, 
with  a  big  park  and  straight  alleys  cut  through  the 
trees,  with  grottoes  and  fountains  and  statues  —  all 
very  stately  and  well  kept.  Beyond  the  house  one 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  jardin  d'agrement,  with  a 
bank  of  crimson  dahlias  all  in  bloom  and  a  sort  of 
temple  d' amour  at  the  far  end. 

As  I  drew  near  the  house  I  discovered  that  the 
stables  were  off  to  the  left,  and  some  distance  in  the 
rear,  the  waiting  motors,  both  private  cars  and  taxis, 
being  parked  out  on  the  shady  terrace.  Some  of 
the  servants  had  brought  out  a  couple  of  tables,  and 
the  chauffeurs  were  partaking  of  the  refreshment  of 
fered.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  tobacco  smoke 
and  the  distant  murmur  of  talk  and  laughter,  but 
the  house  itself  was  silent,  as  if  deserted;  and  this 
was  explained  by  a  file  of  waiters  going  in  a  double 
stream,  like  ants,  down  one  of  the  paths  which  led 
off  into  the  park.  Apparently  the  dejeuner  was 
being  served  al  fresco  some  distance  from  the  house. 
I  stopped  to  listen,  and  heard  the  faint  ripple  of 
women's  voices,  then  a  silvery  laugh. 

Not  a  soul  was  in  sight  about  the  front  of  the 
chateau.  Such  servants  as  were  not  occupied  in  help 
ing  to  serve  were  hobnobbing  with  the  chauffeurs  or 
on  duty  in  the  kitchen.  Even  the  dogs  were  assist- 


224  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ing  at  the  banquet,  for  I  could  hear  intermittent  yap 
pings,  and  once  a  sharp  ki-yi ! 

At  the  foot  of  the  big  stone  steps  I  paused  and 
looked  about  for  somebody  to  hail,  wishing  that  I 
had  rung  at  the  gate;  but  I  had  never  counted  on 
finding  the  place  deserted,  and  had  thought  that 
once  inside  the  better  my  chance  of  success  would 
be. 

For  this  was  my  plan  —  and  you  can  see,  my 
friend,  that  if  the  first  was  a  sporting  proposition, 
this  second,  which  I  had  fallen  back  on  rather  than 
have  Rosalie  mixed  up  in  the  business,  was  almost 
dangerous.  I  meant  to  go  to  the  maitre  d'hotel 
and  explain  to  him  that  I  was  a  reporter,  and  ask  for 
the  names  of  Monsieur  le  Baron's  guests.  A  five- 
franc  piece  would  get  me  all  the  information  I  might 
seem  to  need.  I  would  then  explain  that  I  had  come 
from  Paris  in  a  taxicab,  which  had  broken  down  on 
the  road  within  about  a  kilometre;  that  I  had  walked 
the  remainder  of  the  distance.  And  I  would  ask  him 
if  he  thought  that  one  of  the  waiting  taxis  might  not 
set  me  over  to  Versailles,  which  was  only  about 
three  kilometres  away.  The  maitre  d'hotel,  I  fan 
cied,  would  tell  me  that  I  might  go  and  ask  them, 
and  this  I  would  do,  feeling  sure  that  Chu-Chu  would 
immediately  recognise  me  and  volunteer,  trusting  to 
his  disguise.  Once  in  the  cab  and  on  the  way,  he 
would  probably  pick  out  the  first  unpeopled  part  of 
the  road  to  turn  sharply  on  his  seat  and  shoot  into 
me.  And  my  particular  business  was  to  beat  him 
to  it. 

It  was  a  nice  little  plan,  and  there  seemed  no 
particular  reason  why  it  shouldn't  work.  Chu-Chu 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  225 

would  think  I  had  come  out  in  the  hope  of  getting 
a  word  with  Leontine,  and  no  doubt  find  nothing  to 
suspect  in  the  story  of  my  motor  having  broken 
down. 

So  I  stood  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps,  looking 
round  for  a  servant;  and,  seeing  no  one  but  the  dis 
tant  waiters  carrying  dishes,  I  was  about  to  try  the 
side  entrance  when  my  ear  was  caught  by  a  low 
sound  which  had  for  me  a  peculiar  significance.  No 
body  but  an  ex-cracksman  would  have  given  it  a 
second's  thought.  On  a  lovely  summer  day,  with 
birdsongs  all  about,  the  distant  sounds  of  careless 
revelry,  bursts  of  laughter,  and  the  occasional  squeal 
of  a  maid  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  stables, 
and  the  big,  sunny,  wide-open  country  house,  its  front 
shaded  and  silent,  but  the  rear  teeming  with  activity 
—  let  me  tell  you,  it  seemed  the  very  last  place  in  the 
world  for  such  a  sound  as  fetched  me  up  all  stand 
ing! 

It  was  no  more  than  the  gentlest  purr;  and  if  I 
had  not  been  standing  directly  before  the  open  door, 
so  that  it  came  to  me  amplified  through  the  vaulted 
corridor  within,  I  never  could  have  heard  it.  As  it 
was,  I  recognised  it  instantly,  and  knew  exactly  what 
was  going  on. 

I  took  a  quick  look  round.  There  was  nobody  in 
sight  for  the  instant,  and  I  slipped  like  a  cat  up  the 
steps  and  through  the  front  door.  There  I  stopped 
again  to  listen.  It  was  cool  and  silent  inside  —  so 
still  that  I  could  hear  the  ticking  of  a  clock  on  the 
floor  above.  The  noise  which  had  attracted  me 
came  also  from  the  floor  above;  and  as  I  listened  it 
ceased  for  an  instant,  then  changed  in  character, 


226  THE    CLOSING    NET 

becoming  more  metallic  and  even  more  difficult  to 
hear. 

There  was  no  need  for  me  to  listen,  however. 
Chu-Chu  was  at  work  up  there.  I  wondered  that 
he  went  to  the  trouble  of  blow-lamp  and  drill  when 
in  his  wonderfully  sensitive  hands  the  lock  of  a  coun 
try-house  safe  would  have  been  a  mere  child's  puzzle, 
to  be  solved  in  a  couple  of  minutes  at  most.  I  de 
cided  that  the  safe  must  be  a  very  ancient  one,  with 
a  heavy,  rusty  old  lock  —  the  meanest  sort,  by  the 
way,  for  the  cracksman. 

It  made  it  all  plain  enough.  Chu-Chu  had  run 
out  to  look  the  house  over  with  an  idea  to  a  future 
job,  but,  finding  the  conditions  so  favourable,  was 
acting  on  the  bird-in-the-hand  principle.  Chu-Chu 
was  an  avaricious  man,  and  loved  his  profession,  and 
he  couldn't  resist  the  opportunity.  I  doubted  he'd 
find  much  in  the  safe;  and  no  doubt  he  felt  the  same 
way,  but  thought  he  might  as  well  gather  in  what 
there  was.  And,  mind  you,  it  was  only  about  three 
weeks  earlier  that  he  had  stolen  the  Allerton-Stair 
jewels  on  the  Calais-Dover  boat.  Chu-Chu  was  cer 
tainly  a  greedy  hog! 

I  laid  my  bundle  on  a  big  Renaissance  chest  in 
the  hall  and  crossed,  as  silent  as  a  weasel,  to  the 
stairs.  I  was  wearing  felt-soled  shoes  these  days, 
and  they  made  no  more  noise  on  the  marble  than  the 
pads  of  a  wolf.  Chu-Chu's  merry  little  mill  was 
turning  again  as  I  stole  up  the  stairs,  and  it  stopped 
just  as  I  reached  the  first  landing. 

It  was  better  to  stalk  him  while  he  worked,  so  I 
waited;  and  as  I  did  so  there  came  a  squeal  and  a 
giggle  from  somewhere  in  the  rear  of  the  house  and 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  227 

the  sound  of  a  ringing  slap.  Next,  a  throaty-voiced 
but  panting  "  Voyonsl  —  ma  belle!  " —  half-re 
proachful,  half-indignant.  Another  squeal,  another 
slap,  followed  by  the  rustle  of  muslin  skirts  in  swift 
flight.  This  time  the  "  Tiens,  p'titef  "  had  a  fierce 
sort  of  ring  to  it,  and  there  was  the  clatter  of  pursuit. 
Out  of  the  pantry  they  burst,  through  the  salon  and 
s all 'e-a-m anger,  where  something  got  overturned  and 
came  down  with  a  crash.  A  lap  or  two  round  the 
table,  then  out  into  the  ante-chamber,  and  for  a  sec 
ond  I  thought  they  were  coming  up  the  stairs;  but 
no,  she  dodged  him  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  them  —  and  a  mighty  pretty, 
healthy  specimen  of  an  eighteen-year-old  poulette 
she  was,  and  he  a  trim  young  chauffeur  in  maroon 
livery  and  gaiters.  He  chased  her  into  the  con 
servatory,  and  there  I  think  he  caught  her,  for  there 
was  the  sound  of  a  scuffle,  a  stifled  squeal  or  two, 
and  a  couple  of  flower-pots  coming  down.  Then 
silence,  and  I  reached  for  my  knife. 

For  it  was  knifework  —  this  job  ahead.  No 
Fourteenth  of  July,  Fall-of-the-Bastile  celebration 
for  Chu-Chu  and  myself.  Our  work  had  to  be  quick 
and  silent;  and  I  wondered  what  old  Hertzfeld 
would  think  when  he  saw  a  respectable-looking,  mid 
dle-aged  chauffeur  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood  in  front 
of  his  safe  —  nothing  touched  —  and  learned  later 
that  the  man  was  none  other  than  the  celebrated 
Chu-Chu,  who  was  commonly  thought  to  be  part 
myth,  I  think.  Chu-Chu  had  earned  the  name  in 
his  youth,  and  was  trying  hard  to  live  it  down  by 
sincere  and  steady  work  of  an  unspectacular  sort. 
When  he  felt  the  need  of  murdering  somebody  he 


228  THE    CLOSING    NET 

did  it  quietly  and  without  any  limelight,  and  for  some 
definite  purpose  —  usually  a  money  one.  I  remem 
ber  that  the  night  of  Leontine's  party  Chu-Chu  spoke 
pretty  bitterly  about  a  play  that  had  appeared  at  the 
Grand  Guignol  under  his  name. 

This  sort  of  obituary  notice  of  Chu-Chu  was  going 
through  my  head  while  I  waited  for  the  scufflers  in 
the  conservatory  to  come  to  terms  and  Chu-Chu  to 
start  to  work  again;  and  pretty  soon  the  house  got 
quiet,  and  I  heard  the  little  purr  of  the  blow-lamp. 

Up  I  went,  knife  in  fist,  impatient  to  be  done  with 
the  business  and  out  into  the  bright  sunlight,  with 
the  perfume  of  the  oleanders  and  the  bird-songs. 
That  was  what  I  wanted  —  to  be  out  in  the  bright 
upperworld  again,  a  free  man,  with  no  vampire  from 
the  underworld  dogging  me  in  and  out.  Compunc 
tion?  I  had  no  more  of  it  than  the  man  who  blows 
the  head  off  a  crocodile  or  sneaks  out  and  poisons 
a  wolf.  That  sort  of  sentimentality  was  never  my 
trouble;  and,  between  you  and  me,  there's  a  lot  of 
nonsense  about  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  any 
way.  Send  'em  back  where  they  came  from,  and 
let  'em  start  fresh!  Next  time,  maybe,  they'll  get 
started  on  the  right  thread.  As  for  the  fairness  or 
lack  of  it  in  stabbing  to  death  an  unsuspecting  man  — 
well,  this  wasn't  exactly  a  sporting  event,  like  a  prize 
fight  or  a  duel.  It  was  just  a  plain  feud. 

At  the  top  of  the  stairs  I  paused  to  listen.  The 
blow-lamp  had  stopped  and  the  drill  was  at  work 
again,  but  I  didn't  hear  it,  as  one  of  the  chauffeurs 
had  started  his  motor  for  some  reason,  and  the  hum 
of  it  filled  the  place.  A  couple  of  seconds  later  I 
slipped  down  the  hall  and  was  looking  through  a 


THE    FIRST   ROUND  229 

crack  between  the  portieres  and  the  door  —  and 
there  was  Chu-Chu,  squatting  on  his  knees  and  just 
in  the  act  of  drawing  out  the  drill. 

The  little  room  where  he  was  at  work  was  a  sort 
of  boudoir,  just  off  the  Baron's  bedroom  probably, 
and  finished  in  English  style  —  Jacobean,  with  desk 
and  safe  and  writing  table,  and  the  walls  hung  with 
English  hunting  prints.  There  was  a  big  armoire, 
one  door  half-open,  and  a  goat  coat  hanging  inside, 
and  a  couple  of  golf  sticks  were  lying  on  a  Breton 
chest.  The  place  seemed  a  sort  of  little  den  —  part 
writing-room,  part  cosey  corner  —  the  sort  of  place 
that  the  man  who  lives  there  usually  takes  more  com 
fort  in  than  all  the  rest  of  the  big  house  put  to 
gether. 

Chu-Chu  was  squatting  in  front  of  the  safe,  which, 
just  as  I  had  thought,  was  an  old-fashioned  affair, 
clumsy  and  rusty,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  a  hanged- 
sight  more  burglar-proof  than  lots  of  your  modern 
contraptions.  I  once  knew  of  an  expert  cracksman 
losing  his  temper  and  making  such  a  row  getting  into 
an  old-fashioned  buffet  after  a  drink  that  it  got  him 
pinched.  The  first  glimpse  I  got  of  Chu-Chu 
showed  him  hot  and  angry  as  he  pocketed  his  drill 
and  half  turned  to  listen  before  going  on  with  the 
job. 

My  friend,  I  don't  care  what  they  say,  there's  cer 
tainly  such  a  thing  as  pure  animal  instinct  that  can 
be  developed  in  a  man  just  as  in  a  dog  or  wolf,  to 
warn  him  and  put  him  on  his  guard  when  his  human 
senses  tell  him  nothing.  Chu-Chu  could  not  pos 
sibly  have  heard  me.  In  the  first  place,  the  motor 
in  the  rear  of  the  house  was  buzzing  away;  and,  in 


23o  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  second,  I  had  not  made  so  much  noise  as  a  spider 
walking  across  his  web.  He  could  not  see  me,  as 
the  hall  was  darkened,  and  the  slit  between  the  por 
tieres  no  wider  than  the  cover  of  a  book.  But,  all 
the  same,  he  felt  danger  and  was  on  his  feet  like  a 
flash,  his  legs  braced,  his  head  dropped  between  his 
shoulders,  and  a  long  blade  flashed  from  somewhere 
and  lay  in  his  hand  as  a  man  holds  a  foil. 

I  waited  for  a  second,  feeling  that  the  alarm  might 
pass.  Chu-Chu's  eyes  were  on  the  portieres.  His 
hand  went  out  to  the  oak  chest  and  picked  up  some 
thing  lying  there.  I  caught  the  glint  of  it  and 
whipped  out  my  pistol,  and  even  as  I  did  so  Chu- 
Chu  fired  point  blank  straight  into  the  portieres. 

There  was  a  sharp  pain  in  my  shoulder,  and  the 
pistol  flew  out  of  my  hand.  I  tore  aside  the  por 
tieres  and  leaped  into  the  room.  Chu-Chu  fired 
again,  but  I  ducked  under  his  arm,  grabbed  his  wrist 
and  sent  the  knife  home  just  under  it.  He  squalled 
like  a  cat,  and  struck  at  me  with  his  knife,  putting 
the  blade  through  my  right  forearm.  Mad  with 
pain,  I  loosened  my  hold  of  the  hilt  and  struck  him 
under  the  chin  with  my  left  fist.  It  was  a  solid, 
short-arm  blow,  and  keeled  him  over.  At  the  same 
instant  somebody  grabbed  me  from  behind.  I  flung 
back  my  head  and  writhed  round  like  a  cat.  A 
footman  had  me  by  the  shoulders,  but  I  got  an  arm 
free  and  landed  him  one  between  the  eyes  that  sent 
him  floundering  across  a  chair.  Then  I  turned  and 
darted  out  of  the  door,  down  the  stairs,  grabbed  up 
my  bundle  and  dashed  into  the  nearest  thicket,  a 
mass  of  shrubs  and  flowers,  and  out  into  the  more 
open  park  behind.  Back  of  the  house  there  was  a 


- 


THERE  WAS  A  SNARL  OF  RAGE  IN  MIS  VOICE, 
AND  I  BEGAN  TO  THINK  THAT  IVAN  WAS 
A  MORE  DANGEROUS  MAN  THAN  I  HAD 
THOUGHT  (page  273) 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  231 

yelping  like  kennels  at  feeding-time,  and  two  or  three 
of  the  waiters  who  were  carrying  dishes  down  the 
path  with  the  grass  carpet  caught  sight  of  me  as  I 
sped  under  the  trees  and  raised  a  squall.  Chu-Chu 
had  drilled  me  through  the  shoulder  and  sliced  me 
through  the  arm,  and  before  I'd  gone  fifty  metres 
my  head  began  to  swim.  The  shoulder  didn't  bother 
me  a  bit,  but  the  blood  was  welling  out  of  my  arm 
rich  and  red,  and  I  knew  he'd  got  an  artery.  So  I 
pulled  up  for  a  minute  and  tugged  off  my  tie  and 
twisted  it  round  a  couple  of  times,  tying  it  with  ha,nd 
and  teeth;  and  hardly  had  I  got  it  fast  when  things 
began  to  get  black  and  I  had  to  stretch  out  on  the 
ground,  knowing  that  unless  I  did  I  was  pretty  sure 
to  flop. 

The  faintness  passed  in  a  few  moments,  and  I 
shoved  up  my  head  to  look  and  listen.  I  was  lying 
in  a  heavy  clump  of  ivy  that  covered  not  only  the 
ground,  but  the  trees  and  shrubs  thereabout,  and 
made  a  splendid  cover.  Voices  were  shouting  from 
here  and  there,  and  the  hum  from  the  house  was  like 
a  beehive  kicked  over.  Somebody  was  crashing 
round  in  the  underbrush  not  far  away,  but  out  of 
sight  from  where  I  lay.  You  know  how  jungly  and 
overgrown  these  French  places  get,  so  different  from 
the  spick-and-span  English  ones. 

It  was  a  bad  look-out  for  me,  as  I  knew  that  some 
of  the  people  would  have  run  out  into  the  road;  but 
all  hands  would  be  looking  for  a  man  in  a  tweed 
knickerbocker  suit,  according  to  the  descriptions  of 
the  footman  and  the  waiter  who  had  sighted  me  as 
I  burst  from  the  house.  So  as  quickly  as  I  could  I 
climbed  into  my  long  black  soutane,  round  hat  and 


232  THE    CLOSING    NET 

goggles.  Then,  walking  carefully  and  making  as 
little  noise  as  possible,  I  stole  through  the  under 
brush  toward  the  wall,  where  I  fell  on  a  path. 

Nobody  was  in  sight  for  the  moment,  but  there 
were  shouts  and  cries  coming  from  all  over  the  place. 
Then  down  the  path  in  my  direction  came  running 
a  couple  of  chauffeurs,  both  of  them  with  very  flushed 
faces.  At  sight  of  me  they  paused  for  a  second. 

"  Have  you  seen  anybody?  "  asked  one  of  them. 

"Have  I  seen  anybody?"  I  repeated.  "I  do 
not  understand.  What  has  happened?" 

'  There  has  been  a  thief  in  the  house !  Where  do 
you  come  from,  anyhow?" 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  had  too  much  to  drink,"  I 
answered.  '  Too  much  wine  is  a  bad  thing  during 
this  hot  weather." 

"  Come  on !  "  said  the  other  impatiently. 
"  Don't  stop  to  argue !  "  And  the  two  of  them 
started  to  run  down  the  path. 

The  whole  park  was  swarming,  and  from  all  sides 
came  the  sound  of  crashing  foliage  and  shouted  ques 
tions  and  answers.  The  dejeuner  had  been  aban 
doned,  of  course,  and  guests,  waiters,  cooks,  chauf 
feurs,  stablemen  and  field-workers  were  scouring  the 
place  —  some  beating  out  the  bushes,  others  patrol 
ling  the  road  outside  on  the  look-out  for  the  criminal 
should  he  break  for  the  wall.  I  came  suddenly  upon 
an  exquisitely-dressed  gentleman  and  lady  adventur 
ing  through  the  woods  hand  in  hand.  He  was  push 
ing  slightly  in  advance,  armed  with  an  enormous 
carving  knife,  and  glaring  ferociously  into  the  shaded 
coverts.  I  recognised  him  at  a  glance  as  Martet,  the 
actor;  and  the  woman  I  had  seen  in  the  restaurants 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  233 

with  her  husband,  a  prominent  playwright.  She  was 
very  pretty,  and  appeared  frightened;  and  as  I  drew 
near  the  actor  turned  and  gave  her  an  embrace  that 
ought  to  have  reassured  her,  so  far  as  the  desperado 
was  concerned.  Then,  as  he  loosed  her,  she  caught 
sight  of  me  and  let  out  a  little  scream,  at  which 
Martet  gave  a  jump  that  might  have  taken  him  to  the 
top  of  the  wall  if  it  had  been  in  the  right  direction. 
Seeing  what  I  was,  he  scowled  ferociously,  and  picked 
up  the  carving  knife  which  he  had  dropped. 

"Have  you  seen  anything  suspicious?"  he  de 
manded  in  his  sonorous  stage  voice. 

I  smiled,  and  made  a  little  gesture  with  my  hand. 

"  A  slight  indiscretion,  monsieur,"  I  answered. 
"  I  have  already  forgotten  it." 

The  lady  giggled.  The  actor  frowned,  then  burst 
into  a  laugh. 

"  Touche  mon  ami!  "  he  said.  "  I  was,  of  course, 
referring  to  this  scoundrel  of  a  burglar,  not  to  a 
slight  touch  of  midsummer  madness." 

"  Indeed,"  says  my  lady,  raising  her  eyebrows. 
"  So  it  was  that  —  and  the  champagne  perhaps." 

I  smiled,  touched  my  hat  and  passed  on,  leaving 
them  to  squabble  and  make  it  up.  A  little  farther 
on  I  saw  a  tall  white  figure  moving  toward  me  at 
right  angles.  It  disappeared '  behind  some  ever 
greens;  then  out  into  the  path  in  front  of  me  stepped 
Leontine. 

I  moved  aside  to  let  her  pass,  raising  my  hand  to 
the  brim  of  my  hat.  She  shot  me  a  quick  glance,  and 
seemed  about  to  look  away;  then  stared,  and  her 
amber-coloured  eyes  darkened.  Then  she  raised 
her  hand  warningly,  seemed  to  listen  for  an  instant, 


234  THE    CLOSING    NET 

and  peered  in  a  stealthy  way  under  the  low-hung 
branches. 

'  You're  a  wolf,  Frank,"  she  whispered.  "  How 
did  you  manage  it?  Getting  honest  has  turned  you 
preacher  in  not  much  but  costume  —  has  it,  my 
friend?  And" — she  turned  her  head  aslant  and 
surveyed  me  with  a  critical  smile  — "  I  must  say  you 
look  rather  nice  without  your  moustache." 

:' Is  he  dead?"  I  asked,  and  leaned  against  the 
wall,  for  the  tourniquet  on  my  arm  was  hurting  me 
horribly. 

"No;  you've  missed  again,  my  little  boy.  The 
surgeon,  Doctor  Lemaitre  —  who  was  lunching  with 
us,  you  know  —  says  the  knife  passed  between  the 
ribs  and  the  heavy  muscles  of  the  chest.  He  is  pain 
fully  but  not  dangerously  hurt." 

"  Do  they  guess  who  it  is?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  is  the  hero  of  the  moment. 
He  is  the  brave  chauffeur  who,  while  walking  under 
the  trees,  saw  a  man  scale  the  wall,  and  followed 
him  to  the  house,  where  he  surprised  him  at  his  work 
and  tried  to  take  him  single-handed.  Hertzfeld  is 
going  to  give  him  a  handsome  present  for  having 
prevented  the  robbery.  There  was  in  the  safe  a 
diamond  tiara  for  which  our  friend  the  Baron  paid 
two  hundred  thousand  francs,  and  which  he  had  in 
tended  to  present  to  a  certain  young  actress  of  his 
acquaintance  on  her  jour  de  fete,  as  a  slight  token  of 
his  appreciation  of  her  talent." 

I  whistled. 

"  Chu-Chu's  chest  is  not  the  sorest  part  of  him !  " 
I  observed. 

"  He  is  very  vexed,"  said  Leontine.     "  As  he  was 


THE    FIRST    ROUND  235 

my  taxi-driver,  I  have  volunteered  to  look  after  him, 
and  shall  take  him  to  a  maison  de  sante  that  I  know 
of.  Don't  try  to  kill  him  while  he's  laid  up,  Frank. 
That  would  not  be  nice." 

"  All  right,"  I  answered.  "  By-the-way,  Leon- 
tine,  where  are  your  sympathies?  Am  I  to  count  on 
your  help  or  not?  " 

"  Neither,  mon  ami.  My  position  is  precisely 
that  of  Ivan.  Personally  I  sympathise  with  you,  as 
there  is  a  great  deal  about  Chu-Chu  that  I  have  never 
liked;  but  he  is  one  of  us,  and  you  are  a  renegade. 
So,  as  the  case  stands,  I  am  strictly  neutral.  Fight 
it  out,  my  little  dogs,  and  may  the  best  pup  win ! 
V\7hat  you  did  on  the  road  to  Calais  set  my  blood  on 
fire.  I  would  have  given  my  jewels  to  have  been  in 
the  car  with  you.  And  what  you  have  done  to-day 
was  daring,  too;  and  I  like  daring  things.  No; 
you've  missed  again — :  but  perhaps  you  may  catch  it 
on  the  third  coup.  I  won't  help  you,  Frank;  but 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do  —  I'll  walk  to  the  gate 
with  you  and  see  you  into  the  road,  and  if  necessary 
say  that  I  know  you.  They  might  wonder  what  you 
were  doing  in  the  park." 

"  I'll  say  that  I  was  passing,  and  came  in  when  I 
heard  the  row." 

"  I  don't  think  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  say 
anything.  The  gendarmerie  has  not  yet  arrived, 
and  everybody  is  off  his  head.  It  was  so  funny, 
Frank,  to  see  the  way  the  party  broke  up.  Some 
of  the  men  got  pale  and  some  got  red,  and  two  or 
three  began  to  arm  themselves  with  empty  bottles 
and  some  with  full  ones;  and  some  ran  to  the 
house " 


236  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  And  some  are  spooning  in  the  park,"  I  inter 
rupted. 

"I  don't  doubt  it What's  the  matter, 

Frank?  You  are  getting  ghastly!  " 

"  Chu-Chu  pricked  me  in  the  arm." 

"Here  —  rest  a  minute!  Sh-h-h  !  —  somebody's 
coming.  Brace  up,  my  dear!  " 

I  managed  to  brace  up  after  a  moment  or  two, 
and  we  started  to  walk  to  the  gate.  Fortunately  it 
wasn't  far,  and  —  would  you  believe  it?  —  the  first 
person  I  saw  was  Rosalie,  her  taxi  pulled  up  to  the 
curb,  and  she  talking,  with  a  very  white  face,  to  a 
mottled-looking  footman,  armed  with  a  billiard  cue. 


CHAPTER  IV 

SANCTUARY 

WHEN  Rosalie  caught  sight  of  me  I  thought  she  was 
going  to  keel  over,  but  she  pulled  herself  together, 
and  her  eyes  fastened  on  Leontine  in  a  hard  little 
stare. 

There  was  quite  a  group  round  the  gate.  Every 
body  looked  at  us  as  we  came  out,  and  somebody 
asked : 

"  The  poor  fellow  is  dead  —  or  dying?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Leontine.  "  He  is  in  no  danger. 
Fortunately  a  priest  was  not  needed  after  all."  She 
glanced  about,  and  her  eyes  fell  on  Rosalie's  taxi 
and  Rosalie  herself  standing  beside  it. 

'  You  are  free,  madame?  "  asked  Leontine. 

{  Yes,  madame,"  Rosalie  answered. 

'  Then  will  you  take  monsieur  to  Paris  to  prepare 
them  at  the  maison  de  sante  to  receive  our  brave 
chauffeur?  I  cannot  get  the  place  on  the  telephone. 
One  can  never  get  anybody  at  any  time  on  the  tele 
phone  in  Paris  or  the  suburbs." 

"  Perfectly,  madame,"  answered  Rosalie,  and 
stepped  to  crank  the  motor. 

I  lifted  my  hat  to  Leontine  and  walked  to  the 
taxi;  and  as  I  passed  the  group  at  the  gate  I  heard 
somebody  say  in  an  undertone: 

"  He  looks  badly  frightened,  that  predicateur" 

As  soon  as  we  were  clear  of  the  gate  I  put  my 
lips  to  the  tube. 

237 


238  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"Rosalie!" 

'  Yes,  m'sieu !  " —  for  we  had  both  dropped  into 
French  again. 

'  There's  a  road  just  below  here  that  leads  off  to 
the  right  into  the  forest,"  said  I.  "  Run  in  there, 
please.  I  am  wounded,  and  must  look  after  myself 
a  little  before  we  go  into  Paris." 

'  Very  well,"  said  Rosalie,  and  accelerated  her 
speed.  A  few  minutes  later  she  slowed,  then  turned 
sharply  to  the  right  and  began  to  creep  up  a 
little  wood  road.  When  presently  it  forked  she 
took  the  less  used  of  the  two,  which  was  no  more 
than  an  alley  cut  for  shooting,  and  presently  came 
to  a  stop  in  a  tangle  of  dwarf  oaks  and  briers.  Ro 
salie  jumped  down  and  opened  the  door. 

"  Are  you  badly  hurt?  "  she  asked  anxiously,  and 
in  English. 

"  I  got  a  bullet  through  my  shoulder  and  a  knife 
through  my  forearm,"  I  answered.  "  The  bullet 
wound  doesn't  bother,  but  the  knife  cut  an  artery, 
and  I've  tied  it  up  so  tight  that  it's  giving  me  the 
devil.  It  will  need  a  surgeon,  I'm  afraid,  and  I 
can't  go  to  one  in  this  soutane  over  a  golf  suit." 

Rosalie  knit  her  pretty  brows  and  looked  at  me 
thoughtfully. 

"  Let's  see  it,"  says  she.  "  I  know  something 
about  wounds.  I've  often  helped  Sister  Anne 
Marie.  Let  me  see  your  arm." 

The  sleeve  of  the  soutane  was  soaked;  and,  as 
Rosalie  began  to  pull  it  off,  she  looked  at  her  hands 
and  gave  a  little  scream.  The  tweed  coat-sleeve  was 
a  mess;  and  while  I  was  working  out  of  it  things 
began  to  grow  dark  again.  As  I  began  to  get  sensi- 


SANCTUARY  239 

ble  I  noticed  a  bandage  she  had  put  on  my  arm,  and 
that  the  sun  was  rather  low  for  so  early  in  the  after 
noon,  and  wondered  why. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  awake,"  said  she  tremulously. 
"  I  was  afraid  you'd  gone  to  sleep  for  good.  You 
must  have  lost  an  awful  lot  of  blood.  I've  been 
tying  you  up  and  trying  to  decide  which  was  best  for 
you  —  St.  Lazare  or  a  happy  death." 

I  reached  over,  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it  sev 
eral  times. 

"  Neither,"  I  answered.  "  I  want  life.  I  feel 
as  fresh  as  a  daisy!  The  first  thing,"  I  an 
swered,  "  is  for  me  to  get  out  of  these  tweeds  and 
back  into  my  soutane.  Now,  if  you'll  kindly  step 
over  there  while  I  crawl  out  of  these  tourist's  clothes. 
Then  we'll  bury  'em  and  go  to  Paris.  At  the  octroi 
I'll  get  another  cab  and  go  to  where  I  live." 

"  No  you  won't,"  said  Rosalie,  "  I'm  going  to 
take  you  to  Soeur  Anne  Marie." 

"  Jamais  de  la  vie!"  I  answered. 

"See  here!"  said  Rosalie,  with  a  little  jerk  of 
her  head.  "  I  don't  know  what  your  name  is,  and 
you  tell  me  you've  been  a  crook;  but  you've  been 
mighty  square  with  me,  and  you  are  a  countryman  of 
mine  and  are  badly  hurt,  and  I'm  not  going  to  leave 
you  in  such  a  fix  as  this.  There's  bound  to  be  a 
tremendous  sensation  over  this  thing,  and  every 
wounded  man  in  Paris  is  apt  to  be  overhauled.  Now 
Sister  Anne  Marie  and  I  have  got  a  nice  little  apart 
ment.  So  don't  let's  have  any  more  nonsense!  " 

"But  what  would  Soeur  Anne  Marie  say?"  I 
asked,  rather  weakly.  "  And  what  are  you  going  to 
tell  her?" 


24o  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  Exactly  what  you've  told  me.  She's  not  the 
kind  to  lie  to.  The  neighbours  can  think  that  you 
are  a  missionary  who  has  come  home  ill  —  a  rela 
tive  of  hers,  or  something  of  the  sort.  Soeur  Anne 
Marie  was  once  a  surgical  nurse  in  one  of  the  hos 
pitals,  and  I'd  rather  trust  myself  to  her  than  to 
most  surgeons." 

So  at  last  I  agreed  —  and  mighty  thankfully,  too, 
you  can  bet;  and  I  managed  to  get  out  of  my  sporty 
knickerbockers  and  into  the  taxi.  Rosalie  made  a 
bundle  of  the  tweeds  and  promised  to  go  to  the  little 
hotel  the  next  day  where  I  had  been  stopping  and 
square  up  for  me  and  fetch  away  my  things.  Then 
off  we  went,  going  in  through  Suresnes  and  the  Bois, 
down  the  Champs-Elysees  and  across  the  Alexandre 
Trois  Bridge,  finally  to  pull  up  at  the  entrance  of  an 
impasse  on  the  Rue  Vaugirard. 

"  It's  not  much  to  look  at  from  the  outside,"  said 
Rosalie  as  I  got  out,  "  but  it's  not  bad." 

She  nodded  and  smiled  and  said  a  few  words  to 
some  of  the  people  sitting  outside  their  little  shops, 
and  they  smiled  and  nodded  back.  It  was  plain 
enough  that  Rosalie  was  a  local  favourite  and  quite 
a  celebrity  in  her  quarter.  I  noticed,  too,  that  the 
manner  of  a  couple  of  women  she  stopped  to  speak 
to  was  mighty  respectful.  There  was  none  of  the 
free-and-easy  cheek  of  the  cabmen. 

My  arm  and  shoulder  were  quite  numb  now  and 
felt  as  if  turning  to  stone,  and  I  guess  I  was  pretty 
white  and  pinched-looking.  Rosalie  led  the  way, 
and  I  followed  her  into  the  Impasse,  then  across  a 
little  paved  court  and  up  some  dark,  dilapidated 
stairs;  but  the  house  was  clean  enough,  and  the  peo- 


SANCTUARY  241 

pie   we   met   seemed  to   be   of   a  very  decent  class. 

We  went  to  the  top ;  then  - 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Rosalie,  and  whipped  out  a 
key  and  opened  the  door.  "  Where  are  you, 
mother?  "  she  called. 

"  I  am  here,  deary!  "  came  a  cheerful  voice  from 
down  the  corridor.  Rosalie  turned  to  me. 

"  I  will  go  and  tell  her.  I  won't  be  a  minute. 
Go  right  in,  Mr.  "  She  paused,  smiling. 

"  Clamart,"  I  answered  — "  Frank  Clamart." 

"  Thanks.  I  won't  be  long."  She  gave  me  a 
nod  and  hurried  off. 

The  room  where  she  asked  me  to  wait  was  a  small 
studio,  high-ceilinged,  with  a  skylight  and  a  long  win 
dow  that  looked  out  on  some  fruit  gardens.  It  is 
amazing  the  amount  of  cultivated  ground  there  is 
behind  the  houses  in  all  parts  of  Paris !  Some  of 
the  sections  between  streets  hold  young  farms. 

These  gardens  belonged  to  some  old  mansion  of 
the  nobility,  and  the  family  had  probably  grown 
their  fruit  and  vegetables  there  for  several  hundred 
years. 

Rosalie's  was  one  of  those  little,  old-fashioned 
studio  apartments  of  which  there  are  so  many  in  that 
quarter.  There  was  nothing  of  bourgeois  about  it, 
for  the  few  pieces  of  furniture  were  old  and  massive 
and  pure-style,  and  were  the  sort  you  might  expect 
to  find  in  the  residence  of  a  prelate.  There  were 
some  big,  richly-framed  pictures,  which  appeared 
to  be  old  and  valuable  copies  of  some  of  the  old 
masters  —  among  them  Murillo's  "  Virgin  of  the 
Conception,"  after  the  one  in  the  Louvre;  Tin 
toretto's  "  Crucifixion,"  and  a  small  but  very  beauti- 


242  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ful  copy  of  Michelangelo's  "  Kneeling  Angel." 
There  were  also  some  smaller  paintings,  two  land 
scapes,  and  a  "  Madonna." 

The  most  valuable  article  in  the  studio  was  a 
large  and  very  handsome  tapestry  which  looked  to 
me  like  a  genuine  Gobelin,  though  the  colours  were 
of  deeper  and  more  neutral  tints  than  you  generally 
find  in  this  manufacture.  I  judged  that  Soeur  Anne 
Marie  must  have  had  at  one  time  a  little  money,  and 
that  when  the  church  goods  were  confiscated  she  had 
bought  back  in  different  sales  some  of  the  articles 
which  had  grown  dear  to  her. 

Here  and  there  Rosalie's  touch  brightened  the 
place.  This  was  not  always  in  keeping,  but  it  was 
cheerful,  and  it  looked  as  if  Soeur  Anne  Marie  toler 
ated  the  frivolous  bits  through  her  love  for  the  girl. 
On  an  ancient  piano  in  one  corner  lay  a  violin;  and 
I  hoped  that  the  two  played  together,  as  I  love 
music. 

Altogether,  my  friend,  it  was  not  a  usual  situation. 
Here  there  were  about  to  live  for  some  days  under 
the  same  roof  —  for  I  knew  Soeur  Anne  Marie 
would  take  me  in  —  a  devout  Mother  Superior,  who 
was  likely  enough  the  daughter  of  some  old  and  noble 
family,  an  American  girl  from  Wichita,  Kansas,  the 
daughter  of  an  Irish  cab-driver  and  the  divorcee  of 
a  French  count  who  had  never  so  much  as  kissed 
her,  she  now  earning  a  good  living  as  the  chauffeuse 
of  a  taxicab;  myself,  an  ex-burglar  and  confidence 
man,  coming  there  red-handed  from  a  sincere  and 
conscientious  effort  to  kill  an  enemy,  badly  wounded, 
and  feeling  on  the  verge  of  physical  collapse.  We 
were  an  assorted  trio,  now,  were  we  not? 


SANCTUARY  243 

These  thoughts  were  going  through  my  head  to 
the  accompaniment  of  a  subdued  but  steady  babble 
of  talk  from  what  seemed  to  me  an  interminable 
distance,  for  I  had  lost  an  awful  lot  of  blood,  and 
there  was  a  humming  in  my  ears  which  seemed  to 
put  other  sounds  'way  beyond.  I  was  drowsy,  too, 
and  horribly  thirsty;  and  all  that  I  wanted  was  a  long 
drink  of  water  and'  to  be  allowed  to  sleep.  I  was 
almost  sorry  I  had  come  there,  since  there  had  to  be 
so  much  palaver;  and  then  something  tickled  the 
palm  of  my  hand.  I  thought  it  was  a  fly,  and 
wriggled  my  fingers;  but  the  tickling  increased,  and 
I  looked  down  and  saw  a  thin  stream  of  bright  red 
blood  crawling  like  a  wicked  little  snake  from  under 
the  rim  of  the  bandage.  I  slapped  my  arm  —  and 
it  was  wet  through. 

Thought  I,  "  Here  I  am,  bleeding  to  death  while 
those  women  talk  and  talk  and  talk!  "  It  would  be 
a  mean  trick  on  Rosalie  to  bleed  to  death  in  her 
house,  and  I  was  just  going  to  call  out  when  the 
curtains  parted  and  there  came  into  the  room  the 
sweetest  little  lady,  with  those  clear,  wonderful  eyes 
that  make  you  feel  about  six  years  old  and  glad  that 
you  are  still  a  child.  Her  face  was  very 
smooth,  with  wonderfully  few  wrinkles,  her  cheeks 
were  a  delicate  pink,  and  her  hair  as  silvery  white  as 
moonlight  on  the  snow. 

I  couldn't  see  her  very  clearly,  nor  was  I  quite 
sure  that  she  was  real,  as  it  seemed  to  me  I'd  already 
noticed  two  or  three  people  come  through  those 
curtains  —  and  one  I  thought  was  Tante  Fi-Fi,  until 
she  smiled  at  me  and  disappeared.  Besides,  I'd 
pictured  Sceur  Anne  Marie  as  big,  and  full  of  that 


244  THE    CLOSING    NET 

sort  of  goodness  that  seems  to  say:  "  Here  is  vir 
tue  enough  for  myself  and  all  hands  who  happen  to 
need  it;  and  most  of  you  do." 

Behind  Sceur  Anne  Marie  came  Rosalie;  and  as 
her  eyes  fell  on  my  face  she  gave  a  gasp. 

"  Ma  Mere!  "  she  cried.     "  But  look !  " 

And  then  I  fell  asleep. 

My  friend,  did  you  ever  die  and  float  round  for 
a  while  in  that  fleecy-clouded  between-world,  finally 
to  be  dragged  back  to  your  troubles  by  the  slack  of 
your  angel  pants?  Most  people  have;  and  the 
fleecy-cloud  part  is  what  most  liquorists  and  dope- 
drunkards  aim  at,  but  shoot  low  and  light  in  the 
slimy  ooze,  which  feels  like  fleecy  clouds  up  to  a  cer 
tain  stage  of  the  astral  flight. 

A  wounded  hero,  however,  who  has  lost  a  lot  of 
red  ink  trying  to  assassinate  an  enemy,  comes  to 
earth  easier  than  either  the  garden  souse  or  the  hot 
house  dope;  and  I  flittered  back  as  lightly  as  M. 
Paulhan  to  find  myself  in  a  sweet,  cool  bed,  with  a 
sheet  over  me,  some  ruffles  around  the  elbow  of  my 
free  arm,  a  cool  breeze  wafting  in  the  window,  and 
a  merle  in  a  cage  singing  away  from  somewhere, 
while  from  the  distance  came  the  bad  blending  of 
shrill  yelps  which  Paris  makes,  just  as  London  makes 
a  baritone  rumble  and  New  York  a  bass  growl. 

I  was  all  alone  in  a  pretty  little  room  with  chintz 
curtains  and  primrose  wallpaper.  There  was  an  old 
armoire,  an  enamelled  washstand,  and  a  little  ivoire 
table-de-nwt  beside  my  bed,  which  was  of  enamelled 
iron  with  brass  knobs.  I  took  a  look  at  myself,  and 
judged  that  the  fleecy-cloud  effect  might  have  been 
suggested  by  the  cambric  nighty  I  was  in,  which  I 


SANCTUARY  245 

strongly  suspected  to  be  a  part  of  Rosalie's  trousseau 
for  which  she  had  conceived  a  distaste.  However, 
it  was  just  the  thing  for  a  wounded  burglar. 

When  I  stirred  there  came  a  rustle  from  the  next 
room,  and  there  in  the  doorway  stood  Soeur  Anne 
Marie  —  and  Whistler  could  never  have  painted 
her!  She  was  looking  at  me  with  the  least  bit 
of  a  smile  on  her  lips,  and  there  was  something  about 
her  face  that  struck  me  as  so  familiar  that  for  a 
moment  I  was  almost  startled.  She  saw  the  look, 
I  think,  for  the  wonderful  eyes  gathered  me  in  and 
put  me  at  my  ease  again;  but  I  had  already  found 
out  why  her  face  or  her  expression  —  or  whatever 
it  was  about  her  —  had  struck  me  as  so  familiar.  It 
was  the  same  look  that  Edith  had  —  that  "  Don't  be 
afraid;  it's  not  so  bad  as  you  think  "  look.  Mothers 
have  it,  I  think,  for  their  little  boys. 

"Rest  tranquil,  my  son!"  says  she  —  that's  the 
literal  translation,  and  I  don't  know  of  anything  that 
so  expresses  it. 

"  I  do,  ma  Mere,"  I  answered.  "  I  was  startled 
when  you  came  in." 

"And  why  should  you  be  startled?" 

"  I  took  you  for  my  other  best  friend.  I  think 
that  all  good  women  must  have  the  same  look.  Did 
Rosalie  tell  you  how  I  got  hurt?  " 

"  Yes.  We  will  talk  about  that  another  time. 
Now  try  to  sleep  again;  but,  first,  drink  this." 

She  gave  me  one  of  those  wonderful  slushy  com 
binations  that  modern  doctors  laugh  at  and  that  the 
French  are  so  fond  of.  There  must  have  been 
something  good  in  it,  for  I  felt  better  right  off. 

"  Where  is  Madame  Rosalie?  "  I  asked. 


246  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  She  is  asleep.  She  was  up  all  of  last  night,  and 
has  had  no  sleep  to-day.  Just  at  present  Paris  is 
full  of  Americans,  and  she  is  always  in  demand  at 
the  big  hotels;  but  you  yourself  must  sleep  now. 
You  have  lost  a  great  deal  of  blood."  And  after  a 
few  motherly  directions  she  left  me,  drawing  a  cur 
tain  to  keep  out  the  glare. 


CHAPTER  V 

QUICKSANDS 

SOEUR  ANNE  MARIE,  for  all  her  sweet  gentleness, 
had  the  quiet  finality  of  the  angel  with  the  Flaming 
Sword.  Not  a  wriggle  or  so  much  as  a  word  out  of 
me  were  the  orders  for  the  next  two  days,  not  a 
glimpse  of  Rosalie  or  even  a  bon  jour  through  the 
door;  and  as  for  a  newspaper  —  what  horror!  She 
came  in  but  little  herself;  so  I  did  a  Chinese  rest 
cure,  with  the  result  that  the  evening  of  the  second 
day  my  fever  was  gone,  and  Soeur  Anne  Marie  said 
there  was  no  more  danger. 

The  next  morning,  as  I  rolled  over,  clean  slept 
out,  there  came  a  little  rustle  at  the  door,  and  I 
looked  round  to  see  Rosalie  peeping  in  at  me. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  I.  "  Is  my  sentence  com 
muted?  " 

"  How  do  you  feel?  "  she  asked. 

"  Like  a  hundred  horse-power  racer.  Whenever 
you  get  tired  holding  that  food  — 

She  laughed,  and  set  down  on  my  table  de  nuit 
a  bowl  of  cafe  au  lait,  some  toast  and  a  roll  of  fresh 
butter. 

"And  the  arm  —  and  shoulder?"  she  asked. 

"  I've  forgot  'em !  "  And  I  started  for  the  petit 
dejeuner  in  a  way  that  made  Rosalie  smile.  Wounds, 
after  all,  are1  nothing  much  to  a  man  in  perfect 
health.  The  blood-letting  had  made  me  feel  nice 
and  cool  and  relaxed.  I  always  had  too  much  blood; 

247 


248  THE    CLOSING    NET 

but  what  had  knocked  me  over  was  getting  it  let  out 
of  me  too  suddenly.  Nature  gives  good  fighting 
men  more  blood  than  they  really  need. 

'  Where  is  your  angel  companion?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  is  visiting  a  woman  who  has  a  new  baby. 
Isn't  she  a  dear?  " 

"  She  is  more  than  that.  I  can't  say  what  she 
makes  me  feel.  I'd  rather  not  try.  Why  can't  all 
children  have  mothers  like  that?  The  prisons  would 
all  have  steeples  on  'em  in  ten  years,  and  graft  would 
be  as  rare  as  cannibalism." 

Rosalie  nodded,  looking  rather  thoughtful.  "  I 
suppose  God  cultivates  them,  just  as  He  does  rare 
flowers,"  said  she.  "  When  He  thinks  they're  too 
good  for  us  He  takes  them  to  heaven,  where  they'll 
be  appreciated.  There  are  actually  people  in  the 
quarter  who  are  nasty  to  Soeur  Anne  Marie  simply 
because  she  is  a  nun." 

"  I'd  like  to  catch  'em  at  it!  "  I  growled. 

Rosalie  gave  me  a  pensive  look.  '  You  are  a 
good  deal  of  a  savage,  aren't  you?  "  said  she. 

"  My  real  nature  is  nearer  the  surface  than  most 
people's,"  I  answered. 

She  nodded.  "  I  know.  I'm  a  bit  that  way  my 
self.  I  could  live  a  thousand  years  in  a  convent  or 
work  among  the  poor,  or  suffer,  or  enjoy,  but  I'd 
always  be  a  bit  of  a  savage.  In  spite  of  my  convent 
training  and  Soeur  Anne  Marie's  influence,  it  blazes 
out  once  in  a  while." 

"  How  does  it  blaze  out?  "  I  asked. 

Her  colour  deepened.  Rosalie's  skin  was  of  that 
clear  sort  that  the  weather  seems  to  have  no  effect 
upon,  and  the  rich  blood  was  always  going  and 


QUICKSANDS  249 

coming  in  a  way  that  was  very  pretty  to  see.  Her 
face  was  round  rather  than  oval,  and  wore  habitually 
an  expression  partly  alert,  partly  saucy.  It  was  not 
a  beautiful  face,  nor  was  it  by  any  means  aristo 
cratic  in  feature,  the  nose  being  small,  turned  up  at 
the  end  and  rather  low  in  the  middle,  while-  her 
upper  lip  was  pulled  up  in  an  habitual  pout  which 
showed  the  red,  and  the  lower  one  was  tucked  in  at 
the  corners,  like  a  baby's.  You  see  lots  of  faces 
like  Rosalie's  in  the  front  row  of  a  pretty  chorus, 
with  figures  to  match;  but  Rosalie's  expression  had 
something  which  most  of  the  show  girls  lack  —  and 
that  was  force  and  character,  partly  the  result  of  a 
resolute  little  chin  and  partly  from  a  sort  of  childish 
purity,  such  as  you  sometimes  notice  under  the  big 
hood  of  a  Sister  of  Charity.  One  felt  instinctively 
that  she  was  a  good  girl;  also  that  the  person  who 
tried  to  make  her  otherwise  stood  a  good  chance  of 
getting  hurt.  Rosalie  possessed  the  inherited  virtue 
of  the  Irish  girls,  who  are  as  proverbially  careful  of 
themselves  as  they  are  bountiful  to  the  man  with 
whom  they  choose  to  mate.  A  Celtic  trait  that; 
and  French  girls  well  brought  up  are  very  similar. 

"  I  must  go  and  start  the  dejeuner,"  said  Rosalie. 
"  Here's  the  Matin  and  here's  the  Herald.  Soeur 
Anne  Marie  said  you  might  see  the  papers  if  you 
had  no  fever  —  and  you  look  cool  enough."  And 
with  a  bright  little  nod  she  went  out. 

Just  as  I  had  expected,  the  papers  were  full  of  the 
attempted  robbery  at  Baron  Hertzfeld's;  and  the 
artistes  who  assisted  at  the  luncheon  party  must 
have  thought  they'd  struck  a  good  vein  of  advertis 
ing  value. 


250  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Chu-Chu,  who  gave  the  name  of  Numas,  was  the 
hero  of  the  yarn.  He  told  how  he  had  seen  the 
thief  climb  over  the  wall  and  had  followed  him  into 
the  house  and  up  the  stairs.  Spying  from  the  cur 
tains,  Numas  had  seen  him  start  to  work  on  the  safe, 
when  he  had  waited  for  about  five  minutes  hoping 
that  somebody  might  come  and  assist  in  the  capture. 
Numas  had  not  wished  to  call  or  to  go  to  look 
for  assistance,  for  fear  the  thief  might  escape,  but 
had  finally  determined  to  tackle  him  single-handed. 
In  the  scuffle  he  had  managed  to  disarm  the  ma 
rauder,  and  had  shot  at  him  with  his  own  revolver 
and  received  a  knife-thrust  in  return.  Then  another 
chauffeur  had  come  to  his  aid,  but  the  burglar  had 
managed  to  overcome  them  both  and  make  his  es 
cape. 

The  beautiful  Princess  Petrovski,  who  was  such  a 
familiar  figure  in  the  theatres  and  fashionable  res 
taurants,  and  was  so  often  to  be  seen  at  the  races 
with  Prince  Kharkoff  —  the  chap  who  had  got  me 
deported,  you  know  —  had  taken  the  chauffeur  for 
the  afternoon,  her  own  car  undergoing  repairs. 
Acting  from  a  sentiment  impossible  to  commend 
sufficiently,  she  had  ordered  that  the  hero  be  sent 
to  a  maison  de  sante  in  her  own  quarter,  where  she 
might  be  able  personally  to  superintend  his  nursing. 

Then  followed  a  lot  of  rot  about  the  attempted 
burglary  and  the  heroism  of  the  other  chauffeur.  I 
had  taken  him  for  a  wine-bibbing  footman,  but  it 
appears  he  was  a  large,  fat,  private  chauffeur  in  a 
fancy  uniform.  He  described  how  he  had  first  heard 
a  suspicious  noise  in  the  conservatory  —  more 
flower-pots  knocked  off  the  shelf,  I  suppose  —  but, 


QUICKSANDS  251 

on  entering  the  house,  the  pistol-shot  had  rung  out 
and  he  had  dashed  up  the  stairs  —  this  last  was 
manifestly  untrue,  and  in  my  private  opinion  he  had 
been  taking  a  little  snoop  round  on  his  own  hook. 
He  had  entered  the  boudoir  to  find  his  comrade, 
Numas,  grappling  with  the  desperado,  a  broad- 
shouldered  man  of  prodigious  strength.  The  chauf 
feur  had  flung  himself  upon  the  marauder,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  he  was  himself  unarmed;  but  he  was 
not  in  time  to  save  his  colleague  from  being  stabbed, 
while  he  himself,  though,  as  any  one  could  see,  a 
powerful  man,  was  flung  aside  as  though  he  had 
been  a  child,  and  dealt  a  blow  upon  the  side  of 
the  jaw  which  had  stretched  him  senseless  on  the 
floor. 

The  burglar  was  described  as  a  man  rather  above 
the  average  height,  very  broad  of  shoulder,  and 
dressed  in  ordinary  street  clothes,  rather  light  in 
colour.  He  was  said  to  have  had  dark  hair  and  a 
black  moustache  —  and  here  I  began  to  rub  my  eyes. 
As  you  see,  I  am  fairly  tall,  but  I  am  by  no  means 
heavily  built  and  of  medium  colouring.  I  was 
smooth-shaven,  and  wore  tweed  knickerbockers  and 
a  Norfolk  jacket. 

A  second's  thought,  however,  showed  me  the 
reason.  Chu-Chu  naturally  did  not  want  me  to  be 
taken,  so  he  had  put  them  off  as  much  as  he  could, 
considering  that  one  or  two  others  might  have  caught 
a  glimpse  of  me.  As  for  the  fat  chauffeur,  he  was  a 
fool;  and  had  been  so  excited  that  if  Chu-Chu  had 
described  me  as  a  red  Indian  in  warpaint  and 
feathers  he  would  never  have  denied  it. 

The  funniest  part  of  all,  though,  was  that  the 


252  THE    CLOSING    NET 

article  went  on  to  say  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
police  and  others,  more  or  less  an  courant  of  the 
criminal  world,  the  daring  burglar  was  none  other 
than  the  notorious  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur.  Every 
thing  went  to  establish  this  identity  —  the  physical 
appearance  of  the  thief,  his  superhuman  strength  and 
activity,  and  his  cleverness  in  escaping  unseen  except 
for  a  waiter,  who  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  as  he 
plunged  into  the  shrubbery;  the  speed  and  skill  with 
which  he  had  done  his  work,  for  the  door  of  the 
strong-box  was  on  the  point  of  being  pierced,  though 
Numas  said  that  he  had  waited  for  only  about  five 
minutes  in  the  corridor  before  trying  to  seize  him, 
and  had  then  made  the  attempt  single-handed,  as 
he  was  afraid  to  cry  out  or  to  leave  the  spot  in  search 
of  help,  fearing  that  the  burglar  might  escape. 
When,  after  what  had  seemed  to  him  not  over  ten 
minutes  at  the  outside,  he  had  decided  to  tackle  the 
thief  single-handed,  the  hole  into  the  lock  was  al 
ready  drilled. 

The  most  significant  fact,  however,  was  that  the 
object  of  the  robbery  was  to  steal  a  valuable  dia 
mond  tiara  which  had  been  purchased  by  Monsieur 
le  Baron  von  Hertzfeld  a,s  a  gift  for  a  friend.  In 
tercepting  gems  in  this  way  was  known  to  be  a 
specialty  of  le  Tondeur's;  and  so  on. 

I  laid  the  paper  down,  smiling  to  myself.  Then 
it  struck  me  all  at  once  that  here  I  had  interfered 
with  Ivan's  schemes  again,  and  I  stopped  smiling. 
Yes,  come  to  think  of  it,  the  grin  had  better  be  kept 
for  another  time.  Ivan  was  neutral  so  far  as  Chu- 
Chu's  and  my  feud  went;  but  breaking  up  trade  was 
another  business.  Ivan  had,  no  doubt,  put  Chu- 


QUICKSANDS  253 

Chu  on  this  job,  Leontine  to  dispose  of  the  loot 
afterwards;  so  that,  in  jumping  on  Chu-Chu's  back 
at  this  particular  moment,  I  had  probably  done  the 
concern  out  of  at  least  a  hundred  thousand  francs. 
And,  now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it,  Leontine  her 
self  had  looked  rather  sick  when  I  met  her  in  the 
park. 

This  was  mighty  serious  business  —  more  serious, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  than  my  feud  with  Chu-Chu. 
Ivan  had  squared  things  between  us  when  he  gave 
me  back  Mary  Dalghren's  pearls,  and  he  had  acted 
handsomely  and  on  the  level.  Now,  he  might  easily 
say  to  himself:  "Being  neutral  is  one  thing,  but 
standing  pat  while  this  virtuous  young  man  inter 
feres  with  my  star  worker,  and  takes  the  bread  out 
of  the  mouths  of  the  lot  of  us,  is  another.  I  will 
give  orders  that  he  be  eliminated." 

And  I  knew  that,  once  such  orders  were  issued 
from  headquarters,  it  would  be  all  up  with  me. 
Those  ferrets  of  Ivan's  would  have  been  hanging 
from  my  throat  in  a  week's  time,  no  matter  how 
deep  I  burrowed.  The  association  was  rooted  in 
Paris  like  a  cancer,  and  there  was  no  telling  where 
its  fibres  might  penetrate.  If  Ivan  made  up  his 
mind  that  I  was  de  trop  I  would  probably  never 
know  what  finished  me.  The  best  thing,  I  thought, 
would  be  to  go  to  Ivan  and  tell  him  how  the  thing 
had  happened,  and  assure  him  that  I  had  no  inten 
tion  of  interfering  with  his  work,  even  if  I  had 
chucked  the  game  myself.  Sounds  a  bit  weak- 
livered?  Well,  maybe  so;  but,  after  all,  there  are 
limits  to  the  nerve-strain  a  man  can  stand  when  it's 
long-continued;  also,  I'd  like  to  state,  it's  the  dash  of 


254  THE    CLOSING    NET 

caution  with  his  courage  that  makes  a  man  a  master 
and  carries  him  the  greatest  distance. 

I  went  ahead  and  finished  the  papers,  and  was  glad 
to  see  by  the  society  column  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John 
Cuttynge  were  touring  the  Lake  Country  in  their 
sixty  horse-power  Franco-Helvetia,  one  of  our  new 
cars.  I  hoped  they  would  stay  across  the  Channel 
until  I  finished  up  my  affair  with  Chu-Chu,  as  John 
and  I  looked  too  much  alike  to  make  it  safe  for  him 
to  knock  about  Paris. 

Then  Rosalie  stuck  her  head  in  to  tell  me  to  be 
good,  and  was  off  for  the  afternoon  and  maybe  most 
of  the  night.  It  struck  me  that  if  I  had  a  wife  I 
wouldn't  want  her  to  be  a  chauffeuse.  Rosalie  was 
well  fitted  for  the  job,  because  she  had  that  peculiar 
combination  of  cheek  and  good-natured  repartee 
which  will  take  a  woman  almost  anywhere,  and  can 
turn  a  bad  intention  into  a  laugh. 

I  was  getting  a  bit  tired  of  myself  when  I  heard 
a  little  rustle  and  Sceur  Anne  Marie  came  in.  She 
gave  me  a  quick,  smiling  look,  then  said: 

'  There  is  no  need  to  take  your  temperature,  mon 
ami.  Another  day  of  such  good  behaviour  and  you 
can  sit  up.  Now  I  will  dress  your  arm." 

So  she  went  ahead,  and  I  must  say  she  was  a 
master  hand  at  it.  The  wound,  though  a  nasty  one, 
was  so  clean  that  Soeur  Anne  Marie  was  surprised. 

"  My  son,"  said  she,  "  if  only  your  heart  were  as 
clean  as  your  blood  and  tissues  you  would  be  a  strong 
worker  in  God's  garden." 

"  And  what  makes  you  think  that  it  is  not,  ma 
Mere?  "  I  asked. 

"I  do  not  think  so,"  she  answered;  "but  from 


QUICKSANDS  255 

what  Rosalie  tells  me  I  fear  that  your  soul  is  sick. 
You  told  her  that  you  had  an  enemy  whom  you  were 
seeking  to  destroy,  did  you  not?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered.  "That  is  quite  true;  but 
this  man  is  not  only  my  enemy,  but  one  to  all  so 
ciety.  It  is  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur;  and  every  year 
of  his  life  —  every  month,  one  might  almost  say  — 
adds  its  new  list  of  thievery  and  murder.  Besides, 
if  I  do  not  manage  to  kill  him,  he  will  certainly  kill 


me." 


Her  great,  intelligent  eyes  rested  thoughtfully  on 
mine. 

"  It  were  perhaps  better  that  he  should  destroy 
you,  my  son,"  she  answered,  "  than  that  you  should 
destroy  your  own  soul.  Will  you  tell  me  your  story? 
Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  help  you." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  owed  her  this  confidence, 
so  I  told  her  all  that  had  happened,  holding  back 
only  the  names.  When  I  had  finished  she  sat  for  a 
while,  thinking  deeply.  Then  she  said: 

"  It  is  just  as  I  thought  when  I  first  looked  into 
your  eyes.  Your  soul  is  not  one  of  those  poor,  un 
fortunate,  deformed  ones.  It  has  been  ill,  and  now 
it  is  beginning  to  recover.  Your  own  strength  must 
make  this  recovery  complete.  My  son,  your  duty  is 
very  plain." 

"  Perhaps  you  mean,"  said  I,  "  that  I  ought  to 
take  the  whole  affair  to  the  police?  " 

She  nodded  her  silvery  head. 

"  But  that  would  be  impossible,"  said  I  quickly. 
"  I  passed  my  word  to  the  Chief  that  I  would  not  be 
tray  him  or  any  of  his  crowd." 

"  There   are  times,   mon  ami,"   said  Sceur  Anne 


256  THE    CLOSING    NET 

Marie,  "  when  it  is  necessary  to  break  one's  word 
rather  than  cling  to  a  wrong  resolve." 

"  Don't  tell  me  that !  "  I  cried.  "  My  word's  the 
only  god  I've  got.  It's  the  only  thing  that's  never 
failed  me!  " 

Maybe  my  voice  was  rough,  for  she  drew  back  a 
little  and  seemed  startled  and  a  bit  frightened. 
Then  she  looked  at  me,  and  her  eyes  softened. 

"And  you  have  always  kept  your  word?"  she 
asked. 

"  Always,"  I  answered.  "  I  don't  give  it  lightly; 
but,  once  given,  I  stick  to  it." 

'  Then,  in  this  case,  I  will  not  advise  you  to  break 
it,  since  to  do  so  \vould  be  to  break  faith  with  your 
self.  But  there  is  something  else  which  has  oc 
curred  to  me.  This  man  who  is  at  the  head  of  the 
criminal  organisation  is,  you  tell  me,  so  powerful  that 
if  you  were  to  incur  his  enmity  you  would  feel  as  if 
already  dead?  " 

"  That  is  true,"  I  answered. 

"  And  if  he  were  to  forbid  you  to  destroy  this 
terrible  criminal,  Chu-Chu,  you  would  not  dare?  " 

"  It  would  not  be  worth  my  while  to  try." 

'  Then  is  it  not  possible  that  your  enemy  might 
feel  the  same  way  —  that  if  he  were  forbidden  by 
this  same  Chief  to  murder  you  he  would  not  dare?  " 

I  hesitated.  It  had  never  occurred  to  me  to  ask 
Ivan  to  call  off  Chu-Chu  under  pain  of  punishment 
from  headquarters.  Yet,  when  I  came  to  think  of 
it,  I  doubted  that  Chu-Chu  would  dare  to  go  ahead 
against  Ivan's  strict  injunction  any  more  than  I 
would.  Soeur  Anne  Marie  saw  the  hesitation  in  my 
face,  and  went  on  quickly: 


QUICKSANDS  257 

"  You  tell  me  you  have  twice  attempted  the  life 
of  this  man,  and  that  he  has  narrowly  escaped;  that 
you  have  been  saved  from  being  a  murderer  by  a 
miracle."  (That  was  her  way  of  looking  at  it.) 
"  Do  you  not  think  it  possible  your  enemy  would  be 
quite  willing  to  obey  the  order  for  a  truce  if  he  knew 
you  would  do  the  same  —  especially  since  he  would 
hardly  dare  to  disobey?  Why  do  you  not  see  this 
Chief  and  suggest  to  him  that  he  put  a  stop  to  the 
feud?" 

"  Then  you  would  advise  me  to  discontinue  my  ef 
forts  to  put  an  end  to  a  dangerous  enemy  to  so 
ciety?  "  I  muttered. 

"  No,  my  son.  I  have  already  advised  you  to 
take  the  matter  to  the  proper  authorities,  and  you 
have  told  me  that  this  was  something  which 
you  could  not  do  and  remain  true  to  yourself. 
So  I  urge  you  next,  since  you  cannot  protect 
society  with  due  authority,  at  least  to  keep  your 
own  hands  clean  of  blood.  Might  not  this  be  pos 
sible?" 

I  thought  hard  for  a  moment. 

"  Ma  Mere,"  I  said  finally,  "  I  much  doubt  that 
it  could  be  done.  This  enemy  of  mine  is  a  human 
tiger,  and  I  doubt  if  he  knows  what  real  fear  is.  In 
this  way  the  man  is  superhuman  —  or,  perhaps,  less 
than  human.  For  another  thing,  I  doubt  if  the 
Chief  himself  would  dare  issue  such  an  order;  for  le 
Tondeur,  after  all,  is  still  a  member  of  the  associa 
tion,  while  I  am  a  renegade  and  a  foreigner.  It 
would  be  dangerous,  I  think,  for  the  Chief  to  at 
tempt  such  a  thing.  It  might  weaken  his  influence 
with  his  followers;  and,  besides,  Chu-Chu  might  kill 


258  THE    CLOSING    NET 

him,  secretly  and  without  leaving  any  trace,  if  he 
thought  himself  in  danger." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  asked: 

"  At  any  rate,  could  you  not  see  the  Chief  and  ask 
his  opinion?  You  tell  me  he  has  shown  himself  to 
be  friendly  disposed  to  you.  Could  you  not  have 
a  talk  with  him?  " 

'  That  is  possible,"  I  answered. 

"  And,  until  you  have  heard  what  he  has  to  say," 
she  went  on  eagerly,  "  will  you  not  promise  me  that 
you  will  not  raise  your  hand  against  your  enemy?  " 

"  Not  even  in  self-defence?  "  I  asked  quickly. 

"  It  will  not  be  necessary.  God  will  protect  you, 
and  you  shall  go  forth  clothed  in  my  prayers." 

It  occurred  to  me  that  the  dear  lady's  prayers  had 
not  saved  her  from  being  driven  from  the  convent 
and  the  institution  broken  up;  but,  of  course,  I  did 
not  hint  at  such  a  thing.  What  she  asked  of  me 
was  pretty  stiff,  as,  for  all  I  knew,  Chu-Chu  might  be 
at  that  moment  on  the  stairs.  A  flesh  wound  in 
the  muscles  of  the  chest  isn't  much,  and  the  man  had 
the  vitality  of  a  gorilla  or  timber  wolf.  I  hesitated. 

"  You  do  not  realise  what  you  ask  of  me,  Sceur 
Anne  Marie,"  I  said.  "  It  is  like  sending  a  man 
into  the  arena  unarmed." 

She  looked  at  me  sorrowfully.  "  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  for  a  religieuse  to  nurse  a  man  back  to  strength 
in  the  knowledge  that,  so  soon  as  he  is  healed,  he 
means  to  go  forth  to  slay  a  fellowman,"  said  she. 
"  But  if  you  are  unwilling,  my  son,  I  will  not  urge 
you." 

I  raised  myself  on  one  elbow.  "  I  will  promise 
you  this,"  said  I,  "  that  until  I  have  seen  the  Chief 


QUICKSANDS  259 

and  heard  what  he  has  to  say  I  will  take  no  offensive 
action.  I  will  strike  only  in  self-defence  and  to  save 
my  own  life  —  if  I  should  get  the  chance.  And  I 
will  promise  you,  also,  ma  Mere,  that  if  the  matter 
can  be  settled  without  bloodshed  it  shall  be  so." 

The  old  lady  leaned  over  and  patted  my  shoulder. 

"  Thank  you,  my  son,"  said  she.  "  God  will  re 
ward  you !  " 

A  fortnight  saw  me  practically  sound  again.  The 
bullet  hole  in  my  shoulder  had  been  drilled  clean  and 
closed  up  agarin  without  a  drop  of  pus.  The  knife- 
wound  was  also  clean,  though  in  healing  it  left  the 
outer  side  of  my  hand  rather  cold  and  numb. 

Then  came  the  time  to  say  good-bye  and  it  wasn't 
easy;  for  I  had  grown  mighty  found  of  these  two 
sweet,  brave  women,  each  so  different  from  the 
other,  yet  in  a  way  so  much  alike.  They  liked  me 
too  —  that  was  plain  enough  from  their  actions; 
and  all  three  of  us  knew  it  was  pretty  uncertain  when 
and  where  we  would  meet  again.  Naturally  I  had 
not  stuck  my  head  out  of  the  door  since  the  after 
noon  I  came  to  the  little  studio  apartment;  and, 
once  I  had  left  it,  I  did  not  intend  to  risk  going 
back.  Neither  would  it  do  to  meet  either  of  them 
outside.  Once  Chu-Chu  discovered  that  they  were 
my  friends,  there  was  no  telling  what  horrible  thing 
might  happen. 

I  had  decided  to  leave  at  midnight  and  go  straight 
to  Ivan's  house.  Sceur  Anne  Marie  was  suffering 
from  a  headache  and  at  nine  o'clock  I  made  her  go 
to  bed.  She  gave  me  her  blessing  and  made  me 
promise  to  send  her  a  few  words  from  time  to  time. 
Rosalie  was  resting,  for  she  had  come  in  at  about 


260  THE    CLOSING    NET 

two,  after  an  eighteen-hour  trick,  and  was  going  out 
again  to  get  on  the  boulevards  before  the  theatres 
were  over. 

My  plan  was  to  leave  a  little  after  Rosalie  and  go 
directly  to  Ivan's  house,  over  by  the  Pare  Monceau. 
After  looking  the  ground  over  carefully,  I  would  go 
in  and  try  my  luck  with  Ivan.  It  was  very  possible 
that  I  might  not  get  out  alive,  as  Ivan  might  con 
sider  the  opportunity  of  suppressing  me  too  good 
a  one  to  let  go  by,  and  the  armed  weasels  that  were 
his  servants  would  make  quick  and  quiet  work  of  it. 
I  was  getting  rather  tired  of  the  whole  filthy  busi 
ness,  however,  and  asked  nothing  better  than  to  have 
it  over  with,  one  way  or  the  other.  I  felt  like  the 
old  man  whose  wife  had  been  a  bedridden  invalid 
for  five  years,  when  he  said  to  the  physician: 
"  Wa'al,  doc,  I  do  wish  she'd  git  better  or  — 
somethin' !  " 

A  little  before  ten  Rosalie  came  out,  clad  in  a 
kimono,  her  hair  tumbled  about  her  ears  and  her 
eyes  red-rimmed  and  tired. 

"I  couldn't  sleep,"  said  she;  "so  I  thought  I'd 
come  out  and  talk  to  you.  Oh!  Isn't  it  all  hor 
rid?" 

She  caught  her  breath  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands.  She  was  pretty  well  used  up,  poor  girl, 
for  the  tourist  crowd  had  kept  her  on  the  trot  night 
and  day,  and  my  own  affair  had  got  horribly  on  her 
nerves.  More  than  once  I'd  cursed  myself  for  a 
fool  for  having  let  her  take  me  home. 

"  Rosalie,"  said  I,  "  you  are  all  fagged  out. 
You've  been  going  it  too  strong.  Can't  you  take 
all  night  in  and  rest  up  a  little?  " 


QUICKSANDS  261 

She  turned  and  gave  me  a  queer,  sarcastic  sort  of 
look. 

"Rest  up!"  she  echoed  scornfully.  "I'd  go 
crazy  and  jump  down  into  the  plum  trees." 

"  That's  what  comes  of  getting  overtired," 
said  I. 

"Oh!"  snapped  Rosalie  —  "  is  it?" 

She  stood  under  the  glow  of  the  tall  reading  lamp, 
nervously  straightening  the  books  and  papers  on  the 
centre  table.  Her  chestnut  hair,  which  was  full  of 
natural  waves,  glowed  and  glistened  like  spun  gold 
as  she  moved  her  head.  She  turned  her  back  to  me, 
and  I  couldn't  help  noticing  how  sweetly  her  pretty 
little  neck  rose  from  the  fold  of  the  kimono.  Her 
restless  hands  stole  in  and  out  among  the  papers; 
and  then,  as  I  watched  her  thoughtfully,  the  rounded 
shoulders  gave  a  little  heave,  there  was  the  sound 
of  a  smothered  sob  and  her  bare  arms  slipped  up  out 
of  the  flowing  sleeves  as  she  covered  her  face  with 
both  hands. 

"  Rosalie!  "  said  I  sharply,  and  sprang  up  from 
the  divan  where  I  was  sitting. 

She  turned  away  from  me.  The  sobs  came 
quickly  and  noiselessly. 

My  friend,  I've  seen  some  harrowing  things  in  my 
sinful  life,  but  I  don't  know  when  I've  been  so  upset 
as  I  was  at  the  sight  of  that  little  girl,  sobbing  quietly 
under  the  lamp.  Even  though  it  were  no  more  than 
a  combination  of  heat  and  overwork  and  insufficient 
sleep  —  and  the  chance  of  losing  a  friend  who  had 
grown  companionable  —  it  was  mighty  pathetic. 
Women  or  children  in  trouble  always  hit  me  hard; 
and  the  next  moment  I  was  standing  beside  Rosalie, 


262  THE    CLOSING    NET 

my  arm  behind  her  and  my  hand  resting  on  her 
shoulder. 

"  Rosalie,"  I  said,  "  don't  cry,  little  girl.  There's 
nothing  to  cry  about.  It's  coming  out  all  right  — 
you  wait  and  see." 

She  shook  her  head,  her  face  still  covered  with 
her  hands  and  her  body  rocking  back  and  forth. 
Once  or  twice  before,  when  she  had  been  tired  and 
nervous,  I'd  seen  her  on  the  edge  of  a  breakdown; 
but  she'd  always  managed  to  laugh  and  chatter  it  off. 
This  time,  however,  the  storm  had  caught  her  aback, 
and  her  body  shook  and  shuddered  under  the  strug 
gle.  Yet,  game  little  girl  that  she  was,  she  was  as 
silent  as  a  wounded  bird  for  fear  of  disturbing  Soeur 
Anne  Marie. 

I  left  her  for  a  moment  to  close  the  door  of  the 
corridor.  Rosalie  tottered  to  the  divan  and  flung 
herself  down  in  the  corner.  Her  sobs  were  almost 
convulsions,  and  I  got  frightened.  There's  only  one 
thing  to  do  when  a  woman  gets  to  crying  like  that, 
and  that  is  to  comfort  her,  no  matter  what  comes  of 
it.  So  I  sat  down  beside  her  on  the  divan,  slid  my 
arm  under  her  shoulders  and  transferred  the  chest 
nut  head  and  the  round  arms  and  all  to  my  own 
chest.  She  pulled  back  a  little  at  first,  but  feebly - 
then  yielded;  in  fact,  she  went  me  one  better,  for  her 
pretty,  round  arms  slipped  out  of  the  kimono  and 
went  up  round  my  neck  and  her  tear-stained  face 
was  buried  under  the  rim  of  my  jaw. 

For  several  minutes  I  held  her  so;  and  it  must 
have  been  the  best  thing  to  do,  because  the  sobs 
slowed  down  and  stopped  and  her  breathing  grew 
quieter.  To  help  the  cure,  I  lifted  her  face  and 


QUICKSANDS  263 

kissed  her  eyes  and  lips.  This  was  good  for  the 
sobs  if  not  for  the  breathing,  and  I  could  feel  her 
heart  hammering  against  my  chest. 

Rosalie  was  fast  coming  to  herself,  however,  and 
pretty  soon  she  stirred  uneasily,  drawing  her  arms 
from  round  my  neck  and  letting  her  head  slip  down 
against  my  shoulder. 

"  Whatever  must  you  think  of  me,  Frank?  "  said 
she. 

"Just  what  I've  always  thought  —  that  you're  a 
brave,  warm-hearted  darling,  and  as  good  as  they 
make  'em.  After  all,  we're  only  human." 

She  caught  her  breath;  then  her  laugh  rippled  out, 
quavering  and  unsteady. 

"  Look  in  the  glass,  Frank.     What  a  picture !  " 

I  looked  across  the  room  and  saw  the  reflection  of 
a  young  priest  in  a  long  black  cassock  sitting  on  a 
divan  with  his  arms  full  of  an  uncommonly  pretty 
girl  with  very  red  cheeks,  hair  tumbled  round  her 
ears,  and  a  flowered  kimono  far  enough  open  to 
show  a  very  demoralising  throat.  That  part  of  it 
was  corrected  while  I  looked  in  the  glass  and  Rosalie 
drew  herself  up,  then  turned  and  looked  at  me 
thoughtfully. 

'  That  was  a  bad  breakdown,  Frank  —  but  I  feel 
better  now.  I  was  '  all  in,'  as  they  say  at  home. 
You  are  a  sort  of  Rock  of  Refuge,  aren't  you?  I 
wonder  how  many  men  there  are  in  this  town  to 
whom  a  girl  could  cling  and  cry  with  safety?" 
She  stared  at  me,  her  eyes  curious  and  alight.  "  You 
may  be  an  ex-burglar,  Frank,  but " 

"  But  I  never  stole  what  I  was  trusted  with,"  I 
answered.  "  Now  go  wash  your  face,  my  dear,  and 


264  THE    CLOSING    NET 

put  on  your  dinky  business  clothes,  and  we'll  eat  a 
bite,  and " 

"  Don't  I  "     She  held  out  her  hand. 

"  But,  Rosalie,  it's  not  so  terrible.  Something 
good  will  turn  up,  you  see.  And  I'll  write  you 
every  day." 

'  You  might  come  into  the  Bon  Cocher  some 
times." 

"  It's  too  dangerous  —  for  you,  I  mean." 

;(  I'm  not  afraid." 

'  You  weren't  afraid  a  minute  or  two  ago. 
Somebody's  got  to  be  afraid  sometimes." 

She  looked  at  me  with  eyes  curious  and  alight. 
Then  she  said: 

'  You  are  right,  my  rock  of  refuge.  I  shall  do 
as  you  say.  Now  I'll  go  and  put  on  my  business 
clothes  —  and  you  can  hook  me  up."  She  laughed 
jgaily —  a  little  too  gaily,  it  seemed  to  me. 

So  she  got  into  her  khakis  and  I  hooked  her  up  - 
and  dear  old  Soeur  Anne  Marie,  who  had  put  me  in 
the  most  dangerous  position  of  all  my  life  by  ex 
tracting  the  promise  she  had,  resting  and,  I  hope, 
sleeping  in  a  room  close  by,  and  never  guessing  at 
the  fierce  little  drama  that  had  been  played  out  right 
alongside  her!  For,  if  I  had  sat  tight  and  been  a 
rock  of  refuge  and  all  that,  let  me  tell  you  that  it  was 
not  because  I  wanted  to,  but  because  my  soul  wasn't 
quite  as  sick  as  Soeur  Anne  Marie  may  have  thought. 
Or  maybe  she  knew  it  quite  well,  and  had  a  pretty 
good  idea  of  what  might  and  did  happen,  and  was 
lying  there  loving  us  and  blessing  us,  and  putting  out 
prayers  for  us  that  governed  the  whole  thing  and 
made  the  naughty  little  devils  crawl  under  the  divan 


QUICKSANDS  265 

with  their  tails  between  their  legs.  I've  seen  too 
much  of  Bad  not  to  know  that  Good  can  use  a  slung- 
shot  when  need  be. 

Rosalie  stirred  up  an  omelet,  and  we  ate  it  with  a 
bit  of  salad,  some  brioche  and  a  bottle  of  beer. 
You'd  have  thought  we  were  starting  out  for  a  joy 
ride  and  to  do  the  town ! 

Then,  our  little  supper  finished  and  the  clocks 
striking  the  half-hour  —  half-past  eleven  —  I  got 
up  quickly. 

"  I'm  off !  "  said  I.      "  Au  'voir,  my  dear !  " 

Rosalie's  face  went  white. 

"Not  —  yet!"  says  she  falteringly. 
'  Time's   up.     Be    a    good   girl,    and    don't    get 
nervous  and  blue." 

She  threw  herself  into  my  arms.  I  kissed  her, 
then  turned  to  the  door  and  went  out  and  down  the 
dark  stairs  into  the  street.  The  last  I  saw  of  Ro 
salie  she  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
staring  with  wide  eyes  and  pale  cheeks. 

Once  in  the  street,  I'm  ashamed  to  say  I  soon  for 
got —  or,  at  least,  put  out  of  my  mind  —  Rosalie 
sobbing  on  my  shoulder  and  the  look  of  her  face 
when  the  door  closed  between  us.  The  street  was 
always  a  tonic  for  me  —  just  what  drink  is  to  some 
and  women  to  others,  and  the  sea  or  the  woods  or 
the  road  to  still  others.  Whenever  I've  been  down 
I've  slipped  into  the  street,  like  an  ash-cat,  and  there 
I've  gradually  bucked  up  and  taken  a  fresh  grip  and 
got  a  new  interest  in  things.  The  look  of  the  houses 
and  the  guess  at  what's  going  on  behind  their  walls, 
and  the  glimpse  at  the  faces  that  pass  you  —  let  me 
tell  you,  my  friend,  that's  my  wine !  It's  to  me  what 


266  THE    CLOSING    NET 

the  jungle  is  to  the  hunter  of  big  game,  or  the  ice 
floe  to  the  arctic  explorer,  or  the  desert  to  the 
Bedouin.  My  place  is  in  the  street  —  that  maze  of 
human  purpose;  it's  my  hunting  ground  —  or  was. 
And  when  the  curiosity  to  know  what  was  behind 
those  inscrutable  walls  got  too  strong,  or  was  mixed 
with  the  need  of  whatever  there  was  to  be  found 
there,  I  went  in  and  had  a  look  round,  and  I  seldom 
came  out  empty-handed. 

Talk  about  crime !  Faugh !  I  was  a  criminal, 
just  as  we  all  are;  only  when  I  got  crowded  a  little 
I  went  after  what  I  needed.  I  knew  that  if  I  made 
a  false  step  or  blundered  the  least  bit  they'd  nab  me 
and  tuck  me  away  for  years  and  years  where  there'd 
be  no  more  street  or  jungle  or  sea  or  desert,  or  free 
dom  of  any  kind.  And  yet  I  risked  it.  Sometimes 
I  think  that  many  criminals  take  these  risks  merely 
because  there  is  no  other  class  that  loves  its  liberty 
so  much.  Criminals  are  all  gamblers,  more  or  less; 
and,  though  I  don't  believe  in  such  a  thing  as  a 
"  criminal  class,"  I  do  believe  in  a  class  of  gamblers. 
And  I  think  that  most  of  the  real  criminals  —  mind 
you,  I'm  not  speaking  of  those  silly,  pitiful,  weak 
honest  folks  who  fall  to  a  temptation  because  the 
payment  on  the  car  is  due  and  the  wife  has  run  up  a 
milliner's  bill  —  the  real  criminal,  the  wolf  of  so 
ciety,  loves  to  play  with  the  trap.  He  loves  it  just 
as  another  type,  still  higher  in  the  scale  of  per 
versity,  loves  to  gamble  with  his  life  —  or  another 
man  with  his  fortune. 

Well,  the  street  was  my  passion;  and  when  you've 
got  that  city-prowling  in  your  blood  there's  no  such 
place  to  gratify  it  as  Paris  or  London.  American 


QUICKSANDS  267 

cities  are  laid  out  too  much  on  the  plan  of  a  safe- 
deposit  vault  or  a  model  chicken  farm.  Everything 
is  squared  and  angled  and  numbered  and  tallied  and 
patrolled,  and  when  a  burglar  wants  to  do  a  job  he 
doesn't  go  out  and  slip  over  a  wall,  with  his  little 
kit  swung  from  his  shoulder,  he  turns  lobbyist  and 
starts  with  the  mayor,  and  works  down  until  he 
finds  somebody  whom  he  can  "  fix."  That's  not 
sport  —  it's  business.  No  wonder  American  crooks 
call  burglary  and  pocket-picking  and  a  bill  through 
the  legislature  all  by  the  same  name — "graft"! 

It's  different  in  the  Old  World  cities,  however, 
where  a  man  goes  about  his  job  as  a  hunter  might 
—  but,  there,  I'm  forgetting  that  I'd  chucked  all 
that  and  was  out  for  something  even  bigger  than 
cracking  a  safe  —  my  life  and  the  right  to  live  in 
the  open.  And  I  was  handicapped  now,  as  a  hunter 
might  be  who  had  lost  all  his  ammunition.  I'd 
given  Soeur  Anne  Marie  my  word  not  to  strike  ex 
cept  to  save  my  life  —  and  if  I'd  promised  her  to 
roam  round  unarmed  I'd  have  felt  more  secure,  but 
this  promise  was  good  only  until  I'd  had  my  talk 
with  Ivan.  So  you  see  I  was  in  some  hurry  to  have 
this  over  with. 

If  Ivan  thought  it  would  be  worth  his  while  to 
call  off  the  feud  between  Chu-Chu  and  myself,  there 
was  the  possibility  that  he  might  manage  it  through 
Chu-Chu's  avarice.  Chu-Chu  loved  money  even 
more  than  he  loved  revenge,  and  he  had  found  out 
that  he  couldn't  do  much  without  Ivan.  The 
Shearer  had  wonderful  cunning,  ruthless  methods 
of  getting  rid  of  obstacles,  the  cautious  but  desper 
ate  courage  of  a  wolf  and  a  dexterity  that  was  equal 


268  THE    CLOSING    NET 

to  that  of  any  safe  expert  or  prestidigitator;  but  his 
lacking  quality  was  imagination.  Once  given  the 
data  and  general  directions,  there  was  no  living  man 
so  capable  of  pulling  off  a  job;  but  without  these 
Chu-Chu  might  easily  have  gone  a  year  without 
turning  a  single  trick.  He  had  no  criminal  initia 
tive.  He  was  like  a  trained  hunting  dog  of  mar 
vellous  scent  and  instinct;  taken  out  by  the  master, 
he  could  do  his  work  and  delight  in  it  —  left  alone, 
he  would  have  scratched  his  fleas  round  the  house 
through  the  whole  hunting  season. 

Ivan  was,  in  his  way,  as  remarkable  as  Chu-Chu. 
Through  his  underground  system  —  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  was  probably  nine-tenths  his  own 
imagination  —  he  always  had  a  job  on  hand.  Ivan 
seemed  to  know  in  some  clairvoyant  way  when  valu 
able  jewels  were  about  to  make  a  journey,  and 
where;  and  how  much  gold  was  in  such  and  such  a 
bank;  and  who  had  just  bought  a  rope  of  pearls  or 
a  tiara  or  a  dog-collar,  and  when  they  were  to  be 
delivered.  Ivan  had  all  of  the  data  clear  and  dis 
tinct  for  the  man  detailed  for  the  job;  and  he  would 
let  it  pass  unless  he  could  see  the  whole  business 
from  beginning  to  end.  Chu-Chu  was  his  star  man 
for  this  sort  of  work,  and  I  had  an  idea  that  he 
operated  on  half  shares,  though  Ivan  made  the 
bluff  of  paying  only  15  per  cent,  for  such  jobs  as 
he  himself  outlined. 

It  seemed  to  me,  therefore,  that  Ivan,  having  no 
particular  interest  in  the  feud  between  us  and  having 
as  much  use  for  Chu-Chu  as  Chu-Chu  had  for  Ivan, 
might  persuade  the  Shearer  that  there  was  nothing 
in  it,  and  rig  up  a  truce  between  us.  Ivan  did  not 


QUICKSANDS  269 

want  me  to  kill  Chu-Chu.  When  he  told  me  to  go 
ahead  I  think  he  felt  quite  sure  that  Chu-Chu  would 
finish  my  affair  within  the  week.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  doubted  very  much  that  he  wanted  Chu-Chu 
to  kill  me.  In  spite  of  what  I  had  said  to  him,  Ivan 
would  not  be  quite  sure  that  I  had  not  made  a  con 
fidant  of  some  friend  who  might  get  up  and  do  a 
lot  of  talking  if  I  were  picked  up  somewhere  with  a 
knife  through  my  gizzard.  Ivan's  methods  were 
all  for  quiet  and  no  scandal.  He  was,  in  his  way, 
just  like  the  church-going  head  of  a  big,  dishonest 
corporation,  and  no  doubt  really  felt  himself  a 
person  of  worth  and  consequence.  He  supported  a 
charity  for  tuberculous  children,  and  the  devil 
knows  how  many  needy  young  women.  Ivan,  all 
things  being  equal,  would  be  quick  to  see  the  ad 
vantage  of  a  peace  treaty  between  a  man  who  might 
yet  bring  him  great  profit  and  another  who  might 
land  him  in  the  Andamans.  The  only  question 
was,  Could  he  do  it?  And  that's  what  I  was  going 
to  try  to  find  out. 


CHAPTER  VI 

TEMPTATION 

IT  was  good  to  be  out  again,  and  I  couldn't  remem 
ber  when  I  had  felt  so  fit.  The  night  was  soft, 
very  dark,  and  the  air  heavy  and  oppressive,  with  a 
sort  of  tension  to  it  that  made  me  think  there  would 
be  a  thunderstorm  before  morning.  Everybody 
seemed  to  be  out,  and  the  sidewalks  in  front  of  the 
cafes  were  crowded. 

It  was  different,  however,  when  I  got  over  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Pare  Monceau,  for  this  was  a 
rich  quarter,  and  the  residents  were  off  touring  or 
at  the  springs  and  beaches.  Most  of  the  houses 
were  tightly  shuttered  and  there  was  scarcely  a  cat 
on  the  streets.  I  began  to  be  afraid  that  Ivan 
might  be  out  of  town  himself,  though  it  was  not 
often  he  left  headquarters. 

When  I  got  to  his  house,  sure  enough,  it  was 
closed  up  as  tight  as  a  box,  with  never  a  sign  of 
life.  It  was  a  pretty  little  Renaissance  building, 
with  a  small  garden  in  front  and  a  larger  one  behind 
it,  this  running  down  to  a  high  wall  which  was  on 
a  small  street  that  cut  at  an  angle  the  street  on 
which  the  house  faced.  Another  house,  with  a 
garden  of  its  own,  occupied  the  sharp  corner  plot. 
There  was  a  small  door  in  the  back  wall  of  Ivan's 
garden,  so  that  the  house  could  be  left  or  entered 
from  front  or  rear.  The  arrangement  was  the 

270 


TEMPTATION  271 

same  in  Leontine's  house  —  and  is,  in  fact,  a  very 
popular  one  in  Paris. 

I  approached  the  house  from  the  front  and,  after 
a  quick  glance  up  and  down  the  street,  stopped  in 
front  of  the  grilled  iron  gate  and  looked  in.  The 
little  path  seemed  to  be  littered  with  leaves  and 
twigs,  and  looked  as  if  it  had  not  been  cleaned  for 
some  time.  This  fact  struck  me  as  suspicious,  for 
it  looked  as  if  Ivan  were  trying  to  give  the  impres 
sion  that  the  house  was  closed.  I  did  not  believe 
that  he  would  leave  it  empty,  even  if  he  went  away. 
Still,  it  was  possible;  and  feeling  rather  disap 
pointed,  I  slipped  round  the  corner  to  see  if  I  could 
discover  any  evidence  that  the  back  entrance  was 
being  used. 

The  street  was  dark  and  silent.  I  walked  noise 
lessly  to  the  little  door  and,  after  a  quick  look 
round,  dropped  on  my  knees  and  examined  the  sill. 
Sure  enough,  somebody  had  crossed  it,  and  that  re 
cently,  for  there  were  light  dustmarks  on  the  darker 
stone. 

For  a  moment  I  hesitated,  not  knowing  exactly 
what  to  do.  It  was  mighty  important  that  I  should 
see  Ivan,  as  I  had  promised  Soeur  Anne  Marie  to 
let  up  on  Chu-Chu  until  I  had  made  the  effort  to  fix 
up  a  peace  treaty.  Chu-Chu  hadn't  promised  any 
body  to  let  up  on  me,  however;  so,  for  the  time 
being,  the  odds  were  all  with  him,  and  that's  bad 
business  when  you're  out  to  do  a  man  up. 

Well,  there  was  only  one  way  to  find  out  if  Ivan 
was  in  the  house,  and  that  was  to  go  in  and  see. 
Naturally  enough,  he  wouldn't  want  me  hammering 
at  the  door  when  he  was  trying  to  give  out  the  idea 


272  THE    CLOSING    NET 

that  the  shop  was  closed;  so  I  reached  up  and 
fumbled  round  in  the  ivy  until  my  fingers  got  a  grip 
on  the  edge  of  the  wall,  then  hove  myself  up  and 
lay  for  a  moment  stretched  out  at  full  length  on  the 
top,  well  hidden  by  the  heavy  growth  of  ivy,  listen 
ing  and  watching. 

My  friend,  if  you  want  to  find  out  something,  let 
me  tell  you  there  is  nothing  like  quiet  watching. 
No  matter  where  you  watch,  you  always  see  some 
thing.  Animals  understand  this  principle  better 
than  humans,  and  the  wilder  an  animal  is,  the  more 
patient  he  is  about  this  watching  game.  I'd  learned 
the  lesson  already;  so  now  I  just  lay  there  with 
every  sense  alert,  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up 
• —  and  pretty  soon  it  did. 

The  garden  was  perhaps  about  thirty  metres  long 
by  twenty  wide,  and  was  a  sort  of  little  terrace,  com 
pletely  shaded  by  closely  trimmed  marronniers.  I 
had  been  perhaps  ten  minutes  on  the  top  of  the  wall 
when  I  heard  a  door  open  softly  and  the  sound  of 
light  footfalls  on  the  gravel.  The  trees  were 
trimmed  a  little  higher  than  the  wall,  and,  looking 
under  their  low  branches,  I  saw  two  figures  coming 
toward  the  door.  As  they  drew  near  I  was  able  to 
make  them  out,  even  in  the  gloom,  as  Ivan  and 
Chu-Chu. 

Straight  up  to  where  I  lay  they  marched  and 
halted  directly  underneath.  I  could  have  reached 
down  and  touched  Chu-Chu's  straw  hat.  He  was 
in  the  costume  of  an  artisan  —  a  plumber  or  painter 
—  and  wore  a  long  cotton  blouse  buttoned  round  his 
wrists,  and  a  black  straw  hat. 

Apparently  he  and  the  Chief  had  disagreed  about 


TEMPTATION  273 

something,  for  Ivan  said  sharply,  though  in  a  very 
soft  voice: 

"Then  you  will  not  undertake  it?  That  is 
final?" 

"  It  is  not  worth  my  while,"  growled  Chu-Chu. 
''After  all,  I  am  the  one  to  risk  my  liberty  —  not 
you." 

"  You  risk  nothing  if  you  carry  out  my  directions 
to  the  very  foot  of  the  letter,"  snapped  Ivan. 

Chu-Chu  shrugged.  "  Perhaps,"  said  he,  "  but 
you  must  remember  that  I  am  the  only  man  who 
could  do  the  job." 

u  It  is  very  plain,"  said  Ivan,  in  about  as  nasty 
a  tone  as  a  man  could  use,  "  that  you  are  suffering 
from  the  malady  of  egoism,  Monsieur  Maxeville 
-  though  why,  I  cannot  imagine.  One  would  have 
thought  that  your  recent  misfortunes  might  have 
taught  you  a  little  modesty.  I  could  name  a  man 
who  could  do  this  piece  of  work  in  a  way  to  make 
you  look  like  a  tyro !  " 

"And  who  is  that?"  growled  Chu-Chu.  And 
I  wondered  at  Ivan's  daring.  I  had  sized  him  up 
as  the  least  bit  afraid  of  his  operator;  but  either 
he  was  very  angry,  or  else  had  more  nerve  than  I 
had  given  him  credit  for. 

"  That,  my  friend,"  Ivan  answered,  in  a  catty 
voice,  "  is  our  American  friend,  Monsieur  Clamart, 
alias  the  '  Tidewater  Clam,'  alias  '  The  Swell,'  alias 
'  Sir  Frank.'  Did  you  ever  hear  of  him,  you 
Basque  apprentice?"  There  was  a  snarl  of  rage 
in  his  voice,  and  I  began  to  think  that  Ivan  was  a 
more  dangerous  man  than  I  had  thought.  "  He 
stood  you  in  a  corner  of  my  study  while  he  took 


274  THE    CLOSING    NET 

away  from  you  the  Baron  Rosenthal's  gems;  he 
ditched  you  on  the  road  to  Calais  and  would  have 
made  you  pay  your  dominoes  then  and  there  if  your 
sponsor  the  devil  had  not  taken  care  of  you;  he  cut 
you  up  the  other  day  and  spoiled  a  job  worth  a 
good  sixty  thousand  francs  —  and,  for  all  you  know, 
he  might  land  on  your  fat  neck  this  moment.  And 
yet  you  have  the  toupefcto  tell  me  that  you  are  the 
only  man  in  Europe  who  can  do  this  job  which  I 
have  more  than  three-quarters  done  already!  " 

Chu-Chu  seemed  actually  a  little  cowed.  As  for 
me,  I  could  feel  myself  beginning  to  puff  up  until 
I  was  afraid  the  bushy  ivy  might  fail  to  hide  me. 
You  can  say  what  you  like,  a  sincere  worker  is 
bound  to  take  a  certain  pride  in  the  thing  he's  been 
trained  to  —  honest  or  dishonest.  I'd  chucked 
"  graft  "  and  asked  nothing  better  than  to  live  and 
work  on  the  level;  but  somehow  those  words  of 
Ivan's  cheered  me  up  inside  and  gave  me  a  sort 
of  homesick  feeling.  It  was  plain  enough  that  he 
had  a  deal  on,  and  Chu-Chu  was  standing  out  for 
the  first  squeeze  of  the  press. 

From  the  tone  of  Ivan's  voice  I  could  almost  have 
hoped  that  he  was  trying  to  pick  a  quarrel,  and 
that,  with  a  little  luck,  my  work  might  be  done  for 
me,  as  I  doubted  that  Ivan  would  have  dared  to 
take  that  tone  unless  he  had  his  mines  of  defence  all 
laid.  No  doubt  his  hand  cuddled  a  pistol  as  he 
spoke,  and  perhaps  Chu-Chu  may  have  known  it. 
At  any  rate,  he  probably  thought  that  one  feud  on 
his  hands  at  a  time  was  enough;  nor  do  I  believe 
that  he  wanted  to  quarrel  with  the  Chief,  for  he 
said,  in  a  surly  sort  of  way: 


TEMPTATION  275 

"  You  need  to  remember  that  you  were  making 
a  stork-leg  at  the  same  time,  my  dear  Count;  also 
that  both  of  the  times  this  cursed  American  attacked 
me  I  was  at  work  on  one  of  your  jobs  and  giving  my 
whole  attention  to  that.  If  I've  got  to  attend  to 
our  joint  business  it  seems  to  me  that  you  might  at 
least  give  orders  that  this  rcdeur  be  put  out  of  busi 
ness.  If  you  will  do  that  I  will  agree  to  take  up 
this  job  on  your  own  terms." 

Ivan  shook  his  head.  "  No,"  says  he,  "  that  is 
strictly  your  own  affair.  I  don't  want  anything  to 
do  with  it." 

Chu-Chu  hesitated  a  minute,  then  he  said: 
"  Chief,  I  will  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  If  you  will 
rid  me  of  the  American  I  will  consider  that  as  my 
share  of  the  transaction  and  do  the  job  gratuitously. 
I  can't  do  my  work  when  I  don't  know  what  minute 
I  may  get  a  knife  under  the  shoulder-blade." 

Here  was  high  praise,  let  me  tell  you;  Chu-Chu 
asking  for  help.  That  was  more  than  I  had  hoped 
for;  and,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  my  promise  to  Soeur 
Anne  Marie,  let  me  tell  you  that  his  cry  for  help 
would  have  come  too  late.  Did  you  ever  see  a  bull- 
terrier  crouching  in  front  of  a  badger's  cage  watch 
ing,  as  silent  and  as  still  as  a  tombstone,  barring 
only  the  fine  shiver  rippling  through  him  every  few 
minutes?  That's  the  way  I  was  watching  Chu-Chu. 
Maybe  I  was  more  like  a  cat,  for  there  was  no 
shiver  going  through  me  —  only  a  sort  of  quiet, 
deadly  patience,  for  I  knew  that  he  was  not  for  me 
just  yet.  Perhaps  the  very  fact  of  my  not  intend 
ing  to  kill  him  was  what  kept  him  from  sensing  me 
up  there  on  the  wall,  though  I  was  screened  by  the 


276  THE    CLOSING    NET 

heavy  foliage  of  the  marronniers ,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  ivy,  while  a  street  lamp  at  some  distance  lighted 
the  leaves  overhead  and  put  me  in  the  shadow. 
Just  the  same,  nothing  could  persuade  me  that  Chu- 
Chu  would  have  stayed  long  within  my  reach  if  I 
had  been  meaning  to  kill  him.  That  extra  sense 
would  have  made  him  restless. 

If  Ivan  was  tempted  by  this  offer  he  failed  to 
show  it.  Perhaps,  like  myself,  he  was  a  man  of 
his  word;  or  maybe  he  considered  it  beneath  his 
dignity  as  Chief  to  bargain.  At  any  rate,  he  an 
swered  : 

"  As  I  told  you  before,  I  want  nothing  to  do  with 
that  affair.  Never  mind  my  motive  —  that  is  my 
own  business.  If  you  had  dealt  fairly  with  me  in 
the  matter  of  the  Rosenthal  stones  you  would  never 
have  got  yourself  in  such  an  embarrassing  posi 
tion." 

"  But  how  many  times  have  I  got  to  say  that  I 
was  waiting  only  for  the  opportunity  to  tell  you  of 
that  job?"  Chu-Chu  snarled. 

"  It  seems  to  me  there  was  plenty  of  time," 
snapped  Ivan.  "  At  any  rate,  you  must  admit  that 
you  got  us  both  made  fools  of.  However,  all  this 
is  not  what  interests  us  now.  About  this  other  af 
fair?  Do  you  want  to  undertake  it  or  not?  You 
may  have  until  to-morrow  forenoon  to  decide. 
Come  and  tell  me  your  decision  at  eleven.  I  am 
going  to  lunch  with  Leontine  at  twelve-thirty.  And 
now  I  must  wish  you  good-night,  as  it  is  indiscreet 
for  us  to  stand  here  talking." 

Chu-Chu  muttered  something  under  his  breath. 
Ivan  opened  the  door.  Chu-Chu  slipped  out  — 


TEMPTATION  277 

and  I  watched  him  hungrily;  but  there  was  my 
promise  to  Soeur  Anne  Marie ! 

Ivan  closed  the  door  softly  and  stood  for  a 
moment  as  if  in  thought.  Once  he  laid  his  hand  on 
the  bolt,  and  I  thought  he  was  going  to  open  the 
door  and  call  Chu-Chu  back;  but  apparently  he 
thought  better  of  it,  for  his  hand  dropped  to  his  side 
again  while  he  twisted  his  black,  wiry  moustache 
with  the  other.  I  guessed  that  he  was  hard  put  to 
it,  that  he  had  a  big  job  going  and  that  Chu-Chu 
was  the  only  person  he  dared  trust  with  it.  If  Chu- 
Chu  failed  to  come  to  terms  the  whole  thing  was 
going  begging. 

Chu-Chu's  heavy  footsteps  died  away  in  the  dis 
tance,  and  still  Ivan  stood  there  twisting  his  mous 
tache  and  thinking.  Suddenly  he  swung  on  his  heel 
and  started  for  the  house,  and  as  he  did  so  I  moved 
my  arm,  rustling  the  ivy. 

"Who  is  there?"  asked  Ivan  in  a  low  voice, 
and  I  saw  his  hand  slip  into  the  side-pocket  of  his 
coat. 

"  It  is  I  —  Clamart,"  I  answered  softly. 

Ivan  stepped  to  the  little  door,  opened  it  softly 
and  took  a  quick  look  up  and  down  the  street,  then 
closed  the  door  again. 

"  Will  you  come  down?  "  said  he  in  a  low  voice. 

I  reached  for  the  branch  of  a  tree,  swung  silently 
clear  of  the  wall  and  dropped  to  the  ground.  Even 
through  the  murk  I  could  see  the  gleam  of  Ivan's 
white  teeth  as  he  looked  at  me  with  his  thin-lipped 
smile. 

"  Let  us  go  inside,"  said  he.  "  I  would  like  to 
talk  with  you." 


278  THE    CLOSING    NET 

I  followed  him  up  the  path  and  into  the  house, 
and  as  we  entered  I  heard  a  rustle  from  an  adjoin 
ing  room. 

"  It  is  all  right,  Pierre,"  said  Ivan. 

"  Merci,  m'sieu'." 

Ivan  touched  a  button  and  the  light  streamed  out. 

II  Let  us  go  up  to  my  bureau,"  said  he.       '  We 
can  be  more   comfortable  there,   and  I  have  quite 
a  good  deal  to  say  to  you." 

So  up  we  went  to  the  handsome  room,  with  its 
stately  Empire  furniture,  Oriental  rugs  and  valu 
able  paintings,  for  Ivan  was  a  connoisseur  and  col 
lector.  He  seated  himself  behind  his  desk  and 
motioned  me  to  a  big  fauteuil  opposite. 

"  Let  me  compliment  you  upon  your  quick  recov 
ery  of  health,"  said  Ivan,  eying  me  keenly.  "  Chu- 
Chu  told  me  he  shot  you  through  the  body  and 
ripped  a  hole  through  your  arm  with  his  knife.  He 
was  unable  to  understand  how  you  made  your  es 
cape,  and  has  been  cursing  modern  high-velocity 
pistols  with  small-calibre,  steel-jacketed  bullets  ever 
since.  He  is  also  inclined  to  suspect  Leontine." 

"  He  drilled  me  through  the  shoulder,"  I  an 
swered,  "  and  the  knife  wound  was  nothing  much. 
For  my  part,  I've  been  cursing  my  own  clumsiness." 

Ivan  gave  that  peculiar  smile  which  might  have 
stood  for  amusement  or  malice. 

"  I  wonder  you  didn't  drop  on  his  back  just  now," 
said  he. 

There  was  no  use  in  telling  him  of  my  promise  to 
Soeur  Anne  Marie,  so  I  answered: 

"  I  might  have  done  so  if  it  had  been  anywhere 
else.  Naturally  I  would  not  make  a  row  on  your 


TEMPTATION  279 

premises.  Besides,  I  gathered  from  your  talk  that 
you  had  need  of  him,  and  I  did  not  want  to  run 
against  your  interests." 

His  eyes  bored  into  me  like  gimlets.  "  You  are 
getting  very  considerate  of  my  interests  all  at  once, 
Monsieur  Clamart.  You  were  less  thoughtful  the 
other  day  at  Baron  von  Hertzfeld's.  That  little 
interference  of  yours  cost  me  a  good  many  thousand 
francs;  a  sum  of  which  I  stand  in  considerable  need 
just  at  this  moment." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Count,"  I  answered;  "  but  how 
was  I  to  know?  When  we  last  met  you  told  me  that 
you  were  finished  with  Chu-Chu,  and  that  I  might 
do  what  I  liked  to  him  for  all  you  cared.  I 
supposed,  of  course,  he  was  working  on  his  own 
hook." 

Ivan  leaned  back  in  his  chair  twisting  the  waxed 
end  of  his  thin,  black  moustache,  his  pale,  handsome 
face  clouded.  For  several  moments  he  did  not 
speak,  but  his  luminous  eyes  shot  up  at  me  from  time 
to  time  from  under  the  long,  black  lashes. 

'Why  have  you  come  to  see  me  to-night?"  he 
asked  suddenly. 

"  Because,"  I  answered,  "  it  occurred  to  me  that 
perhaps  I  might  be  running  counter  to  your  interests, 
after  all,  in  hunting  Chu-Chu,  and  I  wanted  to 
make  sure  that  it  was  all  right.  A  man  may  carry 
on  a  feud  with  another  man,  but  there's  no  use  try 
ing  to  fight  a  whole  organisation." 

"  But  what  made  you  think  that  I  might  be  em 
ploying  Chu-Chu  when,  as  you  just  said,  you  be 
lieved  that  I  had  done  with  him?  Whom  have  you 
been  talking  to?  Leontine?" 


280  THE    CLOSING    NET 

His  eyes  were  snapping  now,  and  his  delicate  fea 
tures  as  hard  as  steel. 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  Leontine  has  told  me 
nothing.  Nobody  has  told  me  anything.  It  was 
merely  a  surmise  on  my  part  —  and  it  appears  that 
I  was  right." 

Ivan  stared  a  second,  then  nodded.  "  Yes," 
said  he,  "  you  were  right  —  confound  it!  I  did  not 
expect  to  use  Chu-Chu  again,  nor  did  I  intend  to, 
but  I  was  driven  to  it.  I  have  recently  lost  two  of 
my  best  men,  and  there  was  nobody  else  to  do  the 
work.  There  were  two  or  three  big  jobs  I  wanted 
to  finish  up,  then  leave  France  for  a  while.  I  do  not 
quite  like  the  way  things  are  going.  To  tell  the 
truth,  I  have  a  vague  instinct  that  I  am  under  obser 
vation  "  -  he  gave  me  another  of  those  ocular  dag 
ger  thrusts  — "  and  that  the  Prefecture  is  beginning 
to  smell  a  rat.  That  is  the  reason  why  I  closed  up 
the  house  and  went  to  Trouville  for  a  fortnight.  I 
wanted  the  secret-service  men  to  make  a  search  in 
my  absence,  and  I  find  they  have  done  so.  I  left 
everything  prepared  for  them  —  a  few  letters  to 
indicate  that  I  am  somewhat  involved  in  a  Balkan 
conspiracy,  and  so  on.  Balkan  conspiracies  don't 
interest  them  much,  but  they  had  to  find  something. 
I  just  returned  to-night,  having  got  hold  of  a  good 
proposition,  and  wishing  to  see  Chu-Chu.  There 
Is  no  one  else.  You  heard'  the  conclusion  of  my 
conversation?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "and  it  made  me  feel 
ashamed  of  myself  for  the  trouble  I've  made  you. 
I'd  never  counted  on  your  squareness  to  me  result 
ing  in  your  own  loss." 


TEMPTATION  281 

Ivan  gave  his  thin  smile.  "  It  has,  though,"  he 
answered.  "  First  it  was  Miss  Dalghren's  rope  of 
pearls,  which  I  gave  back  to  you;  then  you  came 
within  an  ace  of  doing  me  out  of  that  big  Calais 
boat  haul;  then  you  broke  up  the  Hertzfeld  job,  and 
now  it  looks  as  if  you  might  spoil  the  best  thing  yet. 
I  won't  say  anything  about  the  Rosenthal  stones 
that  you  took  away  from  Chu-Chu,  though  he 
swears  that  he  would  have  turned  them  over  and 
was  waiting  only  until  the  other  business  should 
have  been  disposed  of.  Now,  Monsieur  Clamart, 
I  am,  like  yourself,  a  man  of  my  word;  but,  after 
all,  there  are  limits  to  one's  patience."  He  smiled 
again. 

Was  he  starting  to  threaten  me?  I  could  feel 
the  muscles  of  my  jaw  harden.  It  was  one  thing 
to  try  to  keep  Ivan's  good  will  and  another  to  be 
cowed.  The  blood  started  up  my  neck,  and  I  think 
that  Ivan  saw  that  he'd  taken  the  wrong  tack,  for 
he  went  on  smoothly: 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me.  What  I  mean  is 
that  keeping  my  word  to  you  is  proving  more  expen 
sive  than  I  can  afford,  and  it  seems  to  me  there 
exists  some  little  obligation  on  your  part.  Don't 
you  agree  with  me?  " 

"  I  certainly  do,"  I  muttered. 

"  I  have  stretched  some  points  for  you,"  Ivan 
went  on;  "and  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that,  all 
money  loss  aside,  it  has  hurt  my  authority  with  the 
association  of  which  I  am  the  head.  Chu-Chu  has 
been  intriguing."  His  face  darkened  and  grew  sin 
ister.  "  He  is  accusing  me  of  favouring  a  renegade 
and  traitor  who  has  great  influence  at  the  Prefec- 


282  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ture.  The  mob  knows  your  story;  it  knows  that 
you  got  caught  while  working  the  Cuttynge  house, 
and  that  for  some  miraculous  reason  you  got  oft 
scot  free.  It's  been  hinted  that  you  belong  to  the 
police,  and  it's  also  been  hinted  that  I  am  too  well 
disposed  to  you.  Do  you  understand?  Now  one 
good  job  on  your  part  would  remove  that  impres 
sion  and  restore  confidence  in  myself  and  enable  me 
to  put  Chu-Chu  where  he  belongs." 

"  But,  my  dear  Count  —  '  I  began,  almost  stam 
mering;  for  now  I  saw  what  Ivan  was  after.  He 
interrupted  me. 

"  Listen,  Monsieur  Clamart:  It  is  true  that  you 
passed  your  word  to  Mrs.  Cuttynge  never  to  steal 
again;  but  I  understand  that  she  believes  you  to 
have  broken  your  faith,  and  that  the  circumstances 
are  such  that  she  can  never  be  undeceived.  What 
you  wish  most  of  all  is  that  she  should  continue  to 
believe  you  guilty  and  her  husband,  the  real  thief, 
innocent?  Is  that  not  so?" 

"Yes,"  I  stuttered;  "  but  - 

"  Let  me  finish."  Ivan  leaned  toward  me  across 
the  desk  and  projected  the  whole  weight  of  his 
powerful  magnetism.  "  Mrs.  Cuttynge,  I  take  it, 
is  the  only  person  whose  faith  in  you  you  value,  and 
hers  is  irrevocably  lost.  She  believes  you  have 
dropped  back  into  the  underworld  —  back  to  your 
old  trade;  but  if  you  were  to  re-emerge  you  could 
resume  your  former  position  in  your  half-brother's 
motor  business,  and  his  wife  would  gradually  regain 
her  faith  in  you,  and  at  the  end  of  a  certain  time  it 
would  be  absolutely  restored.  Now  what  keeps 
you  from  going  back?  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur?  I 


TEMPTATION  283 

do  not  wish  to  tempt  you,  Monsieur  Clamart,  nor 
shall  I  offer  you  a  cent  of  money  as  inducement; 
but  I  am  going  to  appeal  to  your  sense  of  obligation 
to  me  and  offer  you  the  means  of  extricating  your 
self  from  your  difficult  position.  I  have  a  job  on 
hand  which  would  be  practically  impossible  to  a 
bungler,  but  presents  no  difficulties  to  the  expert. 
Moreover,  the  loss  will  fall  upon  a  rich  and  dis 
honest  organisation.  If  you  will  undertake  this 
one  bit  of  work  and  are  able  to  carry  it  off  success 
fully,  I  will  promise  never  to  call  upon  you  again, 
and  I  will  give  you  my  assurance  "  -  his  face  grew 
hard  as  flint — "that  you  need  have  no  further 
cause  to  be  on  your  guard  against  Chu-Chu  le  Ton- 
deur.  And  that  part  of  my  compact  would  be  a 
real  pleasure  to  carry  out." 

The  cold,  deadly  hate  streamed  out  of  Ivan's 
burning  eyes  as  he  said  these  last  words;  and,  let 
me  tell  you,  my  friend,  I  had  no  fear  of  his  not 
"  making  good  "  on  that  part  of  the  contract.  For 
the  first  time  I  realised  how  Ivan  loathed  and  hated 
the  Shearer;  but  it  showed  me,  also,  how  badly  the 
chief  must  be  crowded,  hating  Chu-Chu  as  he  did, 
to  put  up  with  him. 

Well,  here  was  the  proposition,  as  cold  and  square 
as  a  flagstone  in  a  prison  yard.  I  could  take  it  or 
I  could  leave  it.  If  I  took  it  I  broke  my  word  to 
Edith  —  and  what  did  that  matter,  when  she  would 
live  and  die  thinking  that  I  had  broken  it  anyway? 
If  I  left  it  there  was  Chu-Chu  —  and  the  thought  of 
him  didn't  bother  me  any,  because,  after  all,  he 
wasn't  much  more  than  a  bloodthirsty  animal,  with 
an  animal's  cunning  —  and  Ivan. 


284  THE    CLOSING  NET 

And  let  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  Ivan  was  a 
very  different  sort  of  type  to  tackle.  It  was  within 
the  range  of  human  possibility  that  I  could  be  afraid 
of  Ivan.  He  was  a  man  of  cool  thought,  acted  on 
impulsively.  Ivan,  I  felt,  could  be  swift  and  cruel 
and  terrible;  and  his  acts  would  not  be  governed 
by  any  principle,  but  purely  by  the  emotion  of  the 
moment.  Personally  he  could  never  have  fright 
ened  me;  but  a  braver  man  than  I  might  easily 
dread  that  swift,  cruel  intelligence,  directing  such 
ferrets  as  you  catch  sight  of  slipping  in  and  out  of 
the  shadows  abqut  the  barrieres.  Ivan  had  a  pack 
of  these  slinking,  stealthy  apaches  at  his  disposal ; 
and,  though  he  had  probably  never  so  much  as  laid 
eyes  on  one  of  them  to  recognise  him,  they  were 
nevertheless  ready  and  waiting  to  do  his  will  as 
transmitted  through  one  of  his  sub-lieutenants. 
Once  this  cheerful  horde  was  loosed  on  a  victim,  he 
might  as  well  try  to  fight  a  swarm  of  mosquitoes,  of 
which  the  sting  of  any  might  easily  prove  fatal. 
They  represented  a  disease  rather  than  an  enemy. 

So  here,  on  one  side,  was  the  promise  of  freedom 
from  the  underworld  and  life  in  the  open  again,  all 
for  a  few  hours'  exercise  of  the  skill  that  had  taken 
me  years  and  years  to  perfect.  Just  one  theft 
added  to  the  many  which  I  had  done  and  gloried  in 
the  doing  of!  It  may  seem  strange  to  you  that  the 
odd  chance  of  making  a  fluke  of  it  and  getting 
nabbed  never  entered  into  my  head,  except  in  a  vague 
sort  of  way,  just  as  the  thought  of  being  taken  with 
cramp  might  occur  to  the  strong,  long-distance  swim 
mer. 

No,  I  had  no  fear  of  getting  caught;  in  fact,  I 


TEMPTATION  285- 

had  and  have  still  a  supreme  contempt  for  the  Con 
tinental  police,  and  you  can  take  it  as  a  great  truth 
that  the  reason  there  are  no  more  big  robberies  in 
Europe  is  because  people  take  better  care  of  their 
dust.  When  a  Frenchman  gets  a  bone  he  buries 
it;  he  doesn't  give  it  to  some  big  dog  to  guard  for 
him,  the  way  we  do  at  home.  And  as  for  jewels 
—  well,  if  folks  knew  how  few  of  the  sparklers  they 
see  are  the  real  thing  they'd  stare  at  the  moon  in 
stead.  There's  plenty  of  petty  graft  in  Europe,  be 
cause  the  people  are  naturally  suspicious  and  there 
fore  suckers,  but  there's  never  such  an  awful  lot  of 
money  in  any  one  place;  and  when  there  is  you're 
apt  to  find  a  couple  of  dozen  people  guarding  it. 

I  took  so  long  to  answer  that  Ivan  must  have 
thought  it  was  all  fixed,  for  presently  he  said: 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that,  though  you  are  a  straight 
man  in  your  dealings  —  just  as  I  am  when  personal 
questions  are  involved  —  you  are  not,  nevertheless, 
pigheaded.  You  kept  your  word  at  great  sacrifice; 
and  now,  when  this  sacrifice  has  proved  futile,  you 
are  quite  at  liberty  to 

'  To  break  my  word?  "  I  asked  quietly. 

Ivan  gave  me  a  startled  look,  then  his  eyes  nar 
rowed. 

"  So  far  as  that  goes,"  said  he,  "  the  person  to 
whom  you  gave  it  considers  that  you  have  already 
broken  it.  To  all  practical  purposes,  Monsieur 
Clamart,  you  have  broken  your  word  to  Mrs. 
Cuttynge." 

"Perhaps,"  I  answered;  "but  I  have  not  yet 
broken  my  word  to  myself." 

Ivan  smiled.     "  Perhaps  when  you  come  to  try 


286  THE    CLOSING    NET 

yourself  before  the  tribunal  of  your  own  con 
science,"  said  he,  "  the  court  might  find  extenuating 
circumstances " 

I  interrupted  him  impatiently. 

"  Count,"  said  I,  leaning  forward,  "  there  is  no 
use  in  our  saying  any  more.  Nothing  would  please 
me  more  than  to  be  able  to  pay  my  obligation  to 
you,  while  my  own  position  is  not  one  that  I  am  in 
any  way  keen  about.  If  I  could  do  what  you  sug 
gest  I  would  in  a  second;  but  I  can't.  I  don't  pre 
tend  to  be  a  reformed  character  or  anything  of  the 
sort.  It's  simply  that  I've  passed  my  word  and 
can't  go  back  on  it  without  losing  all  my  self-respect 
and  going  all  to  pot  generally.  If  I  were  to  do  this 
one  job  do  you  suppose  I'd  stop  there.  Not  for 
a  second.  I'd  pitch  in  again  and  make  Chu-Chu 
think  he  was  the  apprentice  that  you  called  him  a 
little  while  ago.  It's  not  as  though  I'd  given  my 
word  in  a  fit  of  uplifted  ideas,  or  to  please  a  woman, 
or  because  I  happened  to  feel  noble  for  the  moment 
and  wasn't  in  any  particular  want.  I  did  it  to 
square  a  debt —  and,  by  God,  I'm  going  to  stick  to 
it!" 

Ivan  started  at  me  gloomily.  I'd  rather  ex 
pected  he  would  threaten  or  sneer  —  or  possibly, 
because  there  were  some  fine  streaks  in  his  complex 
nature,  approve  my  stand.  Instead,  he  sat  and 
tugged  at  his  moustache  and  stared  at  me  from  time 
to  time  in  a  sort  of  bored,  despondent  way,  just  as 
a  man  might  at  being  turned  down  in  some  business 
proposition. 

"  Eh?  Well,"  said  he,  suddenly  arousing  him 
self,  "  I  was  afraid  I  might  hear  something  of  that 


TEMPTATION  287 

sort.  I  know  your  sort,  and  I  won't  say  you're 
not  right.  Only  it's  apt  to  be  a  bit  unfortunate  for 
both  of  us." 

"  You  mean  that  I  can  no  longer  count  on  your 
friendship?  "  I  asked. 

"  No  more  than  I  can  count  on  your  help !  "  he 
snapped.  "  Mind  you,  I'm  not  going  to  order  your 
assassination  or  anything  of  that  sort;  but,  if  you 
decline  to  take  up  the  work  and  Chu-Chu  decides 
to  come  to  terms,  I  can't  have  him  interfered  with. 
Naturally  I've  got  to  protect  my  own  man." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  asked. 
'  Just  this,  Monsieur  Clamart,"  said  Ivan,  look 
ing  me  squarely  in  the  eyes.  "  If  you  want  to  pro 
long  your  life  you  will  have  to  leave  the  country. 
So  long  as  you  leave  Chu-Chu  alone  all  right  and 
good.  I  need  him  for  my  business." 

'  Then  order  Chu-Chu  to  leave  me  alone,"  I  an 
swered. 

"  He  wouldn't  obey.  Chu-Chu  means  to  kill  you 
or  have  you  killed;  but,  as  for  your  killing  him" 
—  he  lowered  his  head  and  looked  at  me  fixedly  — 
"  take  my  advice,  Monsieur  Clamart,"  says  he, 
wagging  his  slender  index  finger  at  me,  "  and  leave 
Chu-Chu  alone.  That  is  all." 

Well,  it  was  enough.  At  least,  he'd  put  the  case 
plainly.  So  long  as  Chu-Chu  was  working  for  Ivan 
I  could  hunt  his  scalp  only  at  the  risk  of  my  own, 
though  Chu-Chu  was  perfectly  free  to  murder  me. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  had  nothing  to  fear  from  Ivan 
so  long  as  I  left  Chu-Chu  alone.  It  was  all  logical 
enough.  If  I  didn't  like  the  situation  I  could 
always  get  out  of  the  country;  but  there  was  my 


288  THE    CLOSING    NET 

business  and  the  desire  to  make  good,  and  —  oh, 
there  were  many  reasons  why  I  did  not  want  to 
clear  out! 

Ivan  reached  over  rather  wearily  and  touched  a 
bell.  His  servant,  Pierre,  who  looked  rather  like 
a  mink,  came  to  the  door. 

"  Get  a  bottle  of  champagne  and  some  sand 
wiches,"  said  Ivan;  then  looked  at  me,  and  his  thin 
smile  parted  his  lips  again.  "  You'll  join  me  in 
some  refreshment,  won't  you?  " 

So  we  drank  a  bottle  of  champagne  between  us 
and  ate  some  sandwiches,  and  talked  about  different 
things.  Ivan  asked  me  no  questions  about  my 
stalk  of  Chu-Chu.  The  business  seemed  to  bore 
him.  It  was  plain  enough  he  was  bothered  by 
troubles  of  his  own;  and  once  or  twice,  when  there 
came  a  step  outside  on  the  pavement,  he  stiffened 
like  a  bird-dog  that  scents  game.  It  was  after  two 
when  I  got  up  to  go,  and  Ivan  went  down  with  me 
through  the  garden  and  let  me  out  through  the  little 
door  in  the  wall. 

"  Some  day,  when  we've  both  retired  and  are  liv 
ing  in  the  world  where  we  belong,  we  may  be  good 
friends,  Monsieur  Clamart,"  says  he  in  a  tired 
voice.  "  But,  meantime,  business  is  business. 
Take  my  advice  and  clear  out  for  a  while.  If  you 
don't,  Chu-Chu  will  surely  get  you,  because,  as  I 
said  before,  I  need  the  man  and  can't  have  him  in 
terfered  with.  I've  offered  you  your  chance,  and 
if  you  haven't  chosen  to  profit  by  it  you  have  only 
yourself  to  blame  if  anything  unpleasant  happens." 

"  Is  that  a  polite  way  of  saying  that  if  I  scrag 


TEMPTATION  289 

Chu-Chu    I'll    have    the    association    down    on    my 
back?  "  I  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  that's  about  what  it  amounts  to," 
said  Ivan;  and  he  wished  me  good-night. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD 

THE  night  seemed  darker  than  ever  when  I  went 
into  the  street;  but,  let  me  tell  you,  it  wasn't  any 
blacker  than  my  own  feelings.  There  seemed 
mighty  little  left  but  to  skip  the  country  and  to  go 
somewhere  else  and  make  a  fresh  start,  this  time 
on  the  level;  but  the  very  thought  of  that  was  hate 
ful.  To  begin  with,  I  couldn't  stomach  the  idea  of 
being  chased  out  by  Chu-Chu  with  a  gang  of  Ivan's 
apaches  at  his  heels.  Then,  there  was  the  business 
that  I'd  got  so  well  started.  And  then  there  was 
the  biggest  thing  of  all  —  the  wish  to  win  back 
what  I'd  lost  in  Edith's  eyes!  Don't  make  the  mis 
take  of  thinking  for  a  second  that  I  was  in  love  with 
Edith  —  my  feeling  toward  her  was  the  sort  a 
child  might  have  for  an  angel.  The  distance  be 
tween  us  was  too  great  to  admit  of  anything  else. 
There  were  other  reasons,  too.  I  had  an  awful 
warm  spot  inside  me  for  Rosalie,  and  I  wanted  to 
see  her  often  and  be  free  to  be  with  her.  The  re 
membrance  of  her  bare  arms  round  my  neck  and  her 
tear-stained  face  against  mine  set  me  all  aglow.  I 
realised  that  I  was  on  the  verge  of  falling  in  love 
with  Rosalie.  And  there  was  my  life  in  town,  and 
the  clubs  and  theatres  and  cafes  and  spins  over  the 
road  —  no,  sir;  to  tell  the  truth,  I  almost  regretted 
for  an  instant  that  I  hadn't  taken  Ivan  up  on  his 
offer.  I  knew,  however,  that  things  would  never 

290 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       291 

have  been  quite  the  same  for  me  afterwards  if  I 
had.  It  would  have  cost  me  my  self-respect  even 
more  than  getting  out  of  the  country  would;  and 
when  a  man  of  my  stamp  loses  his  self-respect  there 
ain't  much  left  of  him  but  his  clothes. 

So  here  I  was,  forbidden  to  hunt  Chu-Chu 
under  pain  of  being  exterminated  by  Ivan's  rat-ter 
riers,  and  Chu-Chu  free  to  slip  a  knife  into  me  the 
first  chance  he  got!  It  was  a  pretty  exasperating 
state  of  affairs,  and  the  more  I  thought  it  over  the 
less  good  I  was  able  to  see  in  it  —  until  suddenly  I 
had  an  inspiration. 

In  the  very  beginning  of  my  feud  with  Chu-Chu 
I  had  asked  Ivan  if  he  had  any  objection  to  my  kill 
ing  him,  and  Ivan  had  answered  "  No."  He  had! 
told  me  that,  so  long  as  I  did  not  furnish  any  in 
formation  which  might  be  dangerous  to  the  mob,  I 
could  go  ahead;  and  he  had  even  given  me  a  tip  as 
to  Chu-Chu's  familiar.  At  that  time  Ivan  had  de 
cided  to  break  off  all  relations  with  Chu-Chu. 
Since  then,  however,  he  had  come  to  need  him  again, 
and,  as  a  result,  he  had  now  forbidden  me  to  inter 
fere. 

When  I  had  given  Ivan  my  promise  not  to  fur 
nish  information  to  the  police  it  had  been  with  the 
understanding  that  he  was  not  to  interfere  with  my 
feud  with  Chu-Chu.  And  now  he  had  done  it  — 
and  his  doing  so  let  me  out.  Mind  you,  the  last 
thing  in  my  mind  was  to  turn  State's  evidence  and 
actually  lay  information  against  the  mob.  That's 
a  thing  I've  always  despised;  and  besides,  there 
were  too  many  old,  extraditable  accounts  against 
me  to  make  such  a  move  healthy.  As  the  girl  said 


292  THE    CLOSING    NET 

when  her  young  man  wanted  to  kiss  her:  u  I'm  not 
that  kind  of  a  girl  —  and  besides,  mamma  would 
hear!" 

At  any  rate,  I  could  make  the  bluff  and  put  Ivan 
in  a  position  of  my  guardian  angel.  And  the  min 
ute  that  idea  struck  me  I  laid  a  course  for  an  all- 
night  cafe  on  the  Avenue  Wagram,  where  I  called 
for  writing  material  and  scratched  off  a  letter  some 
thing  like  this: 

MY  DEAR  COUNT, — I  am  preparing  to-night  a  full  state 
ment  which,  by  the  time  this  has  reached  you,  will  be  in  the 
custody  of  a  trustee  with  instructions  to  place  it  at  once  in 
the  hands  of  the  prefect  of  police  should  I  happen  to  be  the 
victim  of  any  accident  of  a  violent  character. 

I  would,  therefore,  advise  that  our  mutual  acquaintance  be 
issued  instructions  similar  to  my  own. 

In  acting  as  I  have,  I  am  actuated  solely  by  a  sense  of  fair 
play.  As  to  my  good  faith,  you  may  remember  that  when  I 
passed  my  word  to  make  no  revelations  which  might  incrim 
inate  your  associates  or  yourself  it  was  done  on  your  assurance 
that  I  should  not  be  interfered  with  in  the  carrying  out  of 
my  personal  affairs. 

To-morrow  morning  I  shall  return  to  my  place  of  business 
and  resume  the  administration  of  my  affairs  as  formerly, 
trusting  to  your  discretion  to  prevent  aught  of  an  unpleasant 
character. 

Please  accept,  monsieur,  my  most  distinguished  considera 
tion. 

FRANK  CLAMART. 

This  note  finished,  I  sealed  and  addressed  it  and 
took  it  straight  to  Ivan's  house.  There  I  yanked  at 
the  bell  until  finally  Pierre  came  to  answer  it.  I 
handed  him  the  note. 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       293 

"  Take  this  to  your  master,"  said  I,  "  and  tell 
him  it  was  brought  by  Monsieur  Clamart  himself." 

Then  I  turned  on  my  heel  and  went  back  to  my 
little  hotel  in  Passy,  with  the  feeling  of  a  man  who 
has  come  to  the  surface  after  a  deep  dive. 

It  doesn't  take  long  to  step  from  the  underworld 
into  the  upper  when  you  happen  to  be  at  home  in 
both.  I  paid  my  little  hotel  bill,  walked  out  into 
the  Bois  with  my  old  black  valise,  found  a  thicket 
over  by  the  bicycle  path  and  did  a  lightning-change 
act  from  a  goggled  predicateur  into  a  young  man  of 
fashion,  then  walked  over  to  the  Pre  Catelan, 
picked  up  a  taxi  and  went  to  my  garconmere  over 
by  the  Ternes. 

The  concierge  seemed  glad  to  see  me.  I  told 
him  I  had  been  working  up  the  car  in  England  and 
had  run  over  for  a  few  days  to  see  if  there  was  any 
thing  new.  Naturally  I'd  left  the  black  valise  in 
the  Bois,  and  my  being  without  luggage  meant 
nothing,  as  he  might  have  thought  that  I  had  left 
it  at  the  Cuttynges'  or  the  Automobile  or  Travel 
lers'  clubs.  Your  Paris  concierge  is  a  past-master 
in  the  art  of  never  being  surprised  at  anything;  and 
if  you  happen  to  be  a  foreigner  the  only  thing  that 
could  possibly  surprise  him  would  be  the  lack  of 
things  to  be  surprised  about. 

I  read  a  few  letters  and  then  walked  over  to  the 
office  on  the  Avenue  de  la  Grande  Armee;  and,  let 
me  tell  you,  the  luxury  of  that  walk  in  the  open  was 
greater  than  any  I'd  ever  enjoyed.  Chu-Chu  might 
have  walked  up  and  shoved  a  knife  into  my  solar 
plexus  and  I'd  scarcely  have  tried  to  stop  him.  I 
was  enjoying  my  respectability  just  as  a  respectable 


294  THE    CLOSING    NET 

person  might  enjoy  a  little  dip  into  vice  —  not  be 
cause  it  was  vice,  but  because  he  was  a  bit  fed  up 
on  the  other. 

Gustave,  our  little  mecanicien,  was  the  only  per 
son  at  the  office.  He  seemed  very  glad  to  see  me 
back,  and  said  there  had  been  practically  no  busi 
ness  at  all  since  I  had  been  away.  He  had  taken 
several  people  out  to  show  the  car,  but  did  not  know 
that  anything  had  come  of  it.  He  believed  there 
had  been  two  sales  from  the  Basle  office  and  one 
from  the  Geneva. 

I  next  called  up  the  Cuttynges  and  learned  from 
the  butler  that  monsieur  and  madame  were  expected 
home  the  following  night,  but  only  to  stop  over 
twenty-four  hours  en  route  for  Baden,  as  monsieur 
had  been  suffering  from  his  stomach.  Gustave  told 
me  that  he  had  been  forwarding  all  letters  to  Mon 
sieur  Cuttynge. 

There  was  really  nothing  for  me  to  do,  and  I  was 
about  to  lock  up  my  desk  and  stroll  down  to  the 
Automobile  Club,  when  Gustave  brought  in  a  note 
that  he  said  had  just  been  left  by  a  man  who  looked 
like  a  valet  de  chambre.  One  glance  at  the  envel 
ope  showed  me  that  it  was  from  Leontine.  It 
read: 


"  DEAR  FRANK, — Ivan  has  just  called  and  showed  me  your 
note.  We  both  think  that  you  have  gone  mad  or  else  that 
you  must  have  a  wild  and  exaggerated  idea  of  Ivan's  author 
ity  over  our  mutual  friend. 

"  Let  me  warn  you  to  get  under  cover  at  once.  Ivan  is 
practically  powerless,  and  you  are  doing  him  a  great  injustice 
in  the  action  you  are  taking.  He  has  now  gone  to  keep  a 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       295 

rendezvous  with  our  friend.  There  are  many  urgent  things 
I  wish  to  say  to  you,  and  I  want  you  to  lunch  with  me  to-day 
at  noon,  chez  moi.  It  will  be  quite  safe. 

"  L." 

This  note  caused  me  no  surprise.  I  had  ex 
pected  something  of  the  sort  —  but  from  Ivan. 
However,  as  Leontine  might  expect  to  be  entangled 
in  the  net  of  any  general  revelations  and  had  no 
idea  how  much  I  might  have  told  in  my  statement, 
she  was  naturally  uneasy,  and  no  doubt  wanted  the 
chance  to  convince  me  that  I  was  behaving  fool 
ishly  and  meanly. 

There  seemed  no  special  reason  for  not  comply 
ing  with  her  request,  as,  now  that  I  had  broken 
cover,  I  was  in  no  more  danger  in  one  place  than 
another.  If  Ivan  dared  he  could  have  me  assas 
sinated  when  he  liked  —  and  so  might  Chu-Chu. 
Mind  you,  I  wasn't  feeling  so  dead  safe,  by  any 
means;  what  I  was  doing  was  simply  the  best  of 
several  poor  choices  —  leaving  the  country,  killing 
Chu-Chu,  and  then  taking  a  chance  on  Ivan's  carry 
ing  out  his  threat,  or  skulking  around  in  disguise 
and  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up.  I  don't 
count  the  possibility  of  going  back  to  graft  as  a 
choice,  because  I  never  for  a  second  considered  it. 

A  little  after  eleven  a  man  whom  I  knew  came  in, 
and  the  clocks  were  striking  twelve  when  I  jumped 
into  a  taxi  and  started  up  to  Leontine's.  It  seemed 
nice  to  be  going  about  the  city  openly  and  well 
groomed  again.  After  all,  I  thought,  maybe  it's 
better  to  take  a  chance  of  being  scragged  like  a 
gentleman  than  to  go  slinking  about  like  a  street 
cat.  I'll  keep  my  eyes  open,  and  if  he  can  get  me 


296  THE    CLOSING    NET 

let  him  go  ahead  and  do  it.  As  for  Ivan  and  his 
mob,  they  can  go  to  the  devil  too. 

It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  I  arrived  at 
Leontine's;  and  then,  as  I  got  out  and  turned  to 
pay  the  driver,  I  got  a  jolt  that  knocked  all  the 
newborn  impudence  out  of  me  —  for  there  on  the 
terrace,  sitting  at  a  table  on  the  edge  of  the  cleared 
space  leading  up  to  the  door,  was  Rosalie,  watching 
me  intently;  and  at  a  table  just  abreast  of  her  on  the 
other  side  of  the  opening  was  a  man  in  an  artisan's 
blouse  and  a  black  straw  hat,  with  one  of  the  little 
round  carpetbags  in  which  plumbers,  locksmiths  and 
others  carry  their  tools,  on  the  pavement  at  his  feet. 

Bearded  though  he  was,  I  knew  him  at  a  glance 
for  Chu-Chu.  Even  if  I  had  not  seen  him  vaguely 
in  the  dark  the  night  before,  I  think  I  would  have 
known  him.  Some  instinct  seemed  to  label  him  with 
his  true  self,  and  the  same  instinct  warned  me  to 
let  my  eyes  move  absently  past  and  to  turn  slowly 
on  my  heel  and  reach  for  the  bell  of  Leontine's 
little  door. 

"Was  it  a  trap?"  I  thought  like  a  flash.  Did 
they  mean  to  put  me  quickly  and  silently  away  and 
take  a  chance  on  such  revelations  as  might  or  might 
not  be  produced?  Was  I  a  fool  to  go  into  the 
spider's  web  like  an  innocent  little  fly?  The  but 
ler's  steps  were  coming  down  the  path.  Had  I 
better  leave  a  verbal  message  and  go  away?  I 
could  say  that  I  had  just  got  back  to  the  office  and 
found  the  note  and  was  sorry  that  I  was  engaged  to 
lunch  in  the  Bois,  and  had  stopped  on  my  way  to 
make  my  excuses.  All  this  went  through  my  head 
like  a  single  thought.  Then  the  door  opened  and 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       297 

I  entered  in  the  most  natural  way  in  the  world  and 
followed  the  maitre  d'hotel  up  the  path  into  the 
house. 

Why  did  I  do  so?  Was  I  fascinated  by  the 
danger?  Hypnotised?  Hardly  that.  I'd  got 
too  used  to  danger  to  act  like  a  silly  song-sparrow 
confronted  by  a  blacksnake.  My  reason  was  one 
which  any  American  can  understand  in  a  second,  but 
which  would  be  absolutely  incomprehensible  to 
many  older  and  more  subtle  nations.  I  was  out  of 
patience.  I  wanted  action,  even  in  the  smoke.  I 
was  sick  of  dodging  about  and  pined  for  a  show 
down.  My  morning  as  a  free  and  independent 
member  of  the  upper  class  had  soured  me  on  stealth, 
and  the  middle  of  the  Champs-Elysees  had  spoiled 
me  for  a  niche  in  the  wall  of  a  back  alley.  I  slipped 
my  hand  into  the  side  pocket  of  my  coat,  cuddled  the 
butt  of  my  little  automatic  heavenly  ticket-punch, 
and  walked  into  that  house  a  sort  of  living  murder 
machine.  Thought  I :  '  They'll  think  they've  got 
mixed  on  their  natural  history  and  caught  a  hot- 
ended  hornet  instead  of  a  harmless  fly  in  their 
blooming  net."  Chu-Chu  would  come  slipping  over 
directly  —  to  mend  a  lock  or  wipe  the  joint  of  a 
waterpipe  —  and  there'd  be  some  quick  curtain 
work.  Catch  'im  alive-oh !  would  be  the  password, 
as  fireworks  were  the  last  things  on  the  programme; 
then  deflate  him  without  noise  and  put  him  away. 

I  followed  the  sleek  rascal  ahead,  with  the 
sparks  fairly  sizzling  out  of  me;  and  when  he 
stepped  aside  to  usher  me  into  the  darkened  little 
boudoir,  which  overlooked  the  garden  in  the  rear, 
my  eyes  were  boring  through  the  portieres,  shining 


298  THE    CLOSING    NET 

into  shaded  corners,  and  the  tail  of  one  of  them 
watching  to  see  that  the  servant  kept  both  his  hands 
in  sight.  The  room  was  empty,  however,  and  the 
man  bowed  himself  out,  saying  that  mademoiselle 
would  be  down  immediately. 

The  picture  of  Rosalie's  face  was  the  next  thing 
that  flashed  through  my  mind  —  the  shock,  aston 
ishment,  then  the  deep,  burning  flush  that  over 
spread  it  as  she  realised  that  I  was  going  into  the 
house  of  Leontine !  Poor  girl,  she  little  guessed 
the  fond,  loverlike  emotions  which  I  did  not  have 
as  I  stood  there  with  my  hackles  on  end,  my  teeth 
bared,  lips  twitching  ready  to  hand  out  wholesale 
slaughter  with  gun  and  knife.  I  wondered  if  Rosa 
lie  had  recognised  Chu-Chu,  and  decided  that  she 
could  not  have  done  so.  His  disguise  was  too  clev 
erly  done.  Only  a  blood  enemy  could  have  pierced 
it  —  and  perhaps  not  even  he  unless  forewarned. 

I  was  pining  to  get  to  the  front  of  the  house  to 
have  a  look  at  the  Bon  Cocher,  but  there  was  no 
time.  There  was  the  peculiar  swish  which  seemed 
so  characteristic  of  Leontine  when  she  moved,  for 
she  had  a  way  of  switching  her  skirt  as  she  walked; 
and  she  stood  in  the  doorway,  ravishingly  lovely  in 
a  summer  costume  of  old  embroidered  linen  and 
lace,  pale  cream  in  tint,  over  satin  of  a  deeper  and 
luscious  yellow.  The  colour  was  in  perfect  har 
mony  with  her  rich  ivory  skin  and  clear,  dark  amber 
eyes.  Her  short,  heavy  curls  were  held  as  usual  by 
the  golden  fillet,  with  its  great  emerald. 

It  did  not  look  like  a  costume  that  a  woman  would 
be  apt  to  put  on  to  assist  at  the  murder  of  a  man; 
nor  did  anything  in  her  expression  or  the  warmth  of 


BACK  INTO  THE  WORLD   299 

her  greeting  suggest  this  idea.  Her  eyes  fastened 
on  me  with  the  avid  look  that  I  had  seen  there  be 
fore  and  her  breath  came  quickly  as  she  spoke. 

"  Oh,  Frank!  Frank!  "  she  murmured,  as  I  bent 
over  her  hand.  "  What  a  lot  of  trouble  you  do 
make  us!  " 

"  I'm  not  altogether  free  from  it  myself,"  I  an 
swered.  "  But  you  must  remember  that  you  began 
it  all." 

u  And  we  are  apt  to  end  it  unless  you  show  a 
little  sense,"  she  retorted,  smiling. 

There  was  a  sound  in  the  corridor,  and  I  felt  my 
self  harden  up.  Leontine  noticed  it  and  laughed. 

"For  shame,  Frank!  It's  only  Victor  to  an 
nounce  dejeuner.  Surely  you  don't  think  I'd  set 
traps  for  you  in  my  own  house?  " 

"  The  idea  never  entered  my  head,"  I  answered, 
"  until  I  saw  Chu-Chu  sitting  in  front  of  the  cafe 
opposite.  Considering  that  you  had  told  me 

"Chu-Chu!"  she  whispered;  then  was  silent. 
Victor  announced  that  she  was  served  and  I  fol 
lowed  her  into  the  charming  little  dining-room. 
There  were  places  for  three. 

"  Ivan  said  he  would  try  to  get  in  for  an  ice  and 
coffee,"  said  Leontine. 

Victor  served  us,  then  went  out. 

"  Help  yourself  to  wine,  Frank,"  said  Leontine. 

'  That  is   Chablis  by  you   and   Chambertin  in  the 

other  decanter.     Now  tell  me  what  you  mean  by 

saying  that  Chu-Chu  was  in  the  cafe  opposite.     He 

had  a  rendezvous  with  Ivan  at  this  hour." 

"  Then  he  failed  to  keep  it,"  I  answered. 

"  How  was  he  dressed?  " 


300  THE    CLOSING    NET 

'  Workman's   blouse,   black   straw  hat,    grizzled 
beard." 

Leontine   knit  her  brows.      I   grew  suspicious. 

"May  I  help  you  to  wine?"  I  asked. 

"  No,  thanks.  I  never  take  it  with  dejeuner. 
But  help  yourself,  please." 

'  Thanks.      I   also  am  abstemious,"   I   answered. 

Leontine  shot  me  a  swift  look,  then  leaned  over 
and  laid  her  hand  on  my  sleeve.  Her  eyes  were 
positively  melting  and  it  seemed  to  me  there  was 
the  slightest  quiver  in  her  voice. 

"  Frank,"  she  whispered,  "  is  it  possible  that  you 
do  not  trust  me?"  The  swift  colour  rose  and 
spread  over  her  high,  Slavic  cheekbones,  which  were 
soft  and  rounded,  yet  high  and  of  a  Cossack  promi 
nence  that  lent  character  and  intensity  to  her  pas 
sionate  face,  though  in  no  way  diminishing  its  sen 
suous  beauty.  il  Don't  you  think  me  loyal, 
Frank?  "  she  pleaded. 

"  It's  your  loyalty  that  keeps  my  hand  in  my 
pocket,"  I  answered,  with  a  sort  of  dry  grin.  "  I 
don't  mind  giving  it  to  you  straight,  my  girl,  that 
when  I  spotted  Chu-Chu  in  front  of  Le  Bon  Cocher 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  you  and  Ivan  and  a  few 
others  had  set  a  little  trap  for  me  over  here." 

Leontine's  fresh  caviar  stopped  halfway  to  her 
expectant  mouth  and  she  looked  at  me  with  her 
amber  eyes  wide  open.  tJsually  you  got  only  an 
impression  of  them  between  a  double  fringe  of  long, 
curved  lashes  black  as  ink. 

"  Then  what  made  you  come  in  here,"  she  cried, 
"  if  you  thought  me  capable  of  treachery  of  that 
sort  to  the  man  I  —  I  love?  "  she  whispered  hotly, 


I    FIRED  AGAIN   AND    BROUGHT  A   SNARL  OUT 

OF  HIM  (page  32?) 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       301 

and  leaned  toward  me,  so  that  her  bosom  was 
crushed  against  the  polished  table. 

"  I  came  in  to  bust  up  the  trap,"  I  answered,  and 
took  a  big  bite  of  caviar  and  toast.  Now  that  the 
ice  was  broken,  I  was  beginning  to  have  a  good 
time;  and  I  must  say  that,  after  living  round  in 
punky  little  restaurants,  that  fresh  Orsova  caviar, 
with  eggs  a  pearly  grey  and  as  big  as  buckshot, 
wasn't  the  least  of  it.  '  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  I, 
"  when  I  walked  in  here  I  was  like  a  Fourth  of  July 
pinwheel,  just  waiting  for  the  match.  And,  though 
I'm  having  a  splendid  lunch,  and  admiring  you  more 
than  ever,  I'm  none  the  less  all  organised  for  war. 
Only,  if  there's  to  be  rough-house,  I  wish  you'd  hold 
it  off  until  I  finish  this  caviar.  Remember,  Leon- 
tine  dear,  I've  been  acting  and  living  up  to  the  role 
of  a  wandering  preacher  —  and  I'm  hungry." 

Leontine's  eyes  sparkled.  "  Do  you  know  what 
I  really  wish?"  she  cried. 

"What?"  I  asked. 

"  I  wish  that  I  actually  had  about  half  a  dozen 
bravos  hidden  round  the  house  —  just  to  see  the 
fun." 

"And  Chu-Chu " 

"  She  shook  her  head  with  a  little  shudder. 
"No,"  she  answered — "not  Chu-Chu.  I  am  too 
fond  of  you,  Frank!  "  And  she  laid  her  cheek  on 
my  sleeve.  A  queer  girl,  Leontine. 

Presently  she  looked  up  with  a  sad  sort  of  smile. 

;'  Drink  your  wine  if  you  like  it,  my  dear,"  says 
she.  "  I  will  take  some  with  you  if  it  will  make 
you  feel  any  easier." 

The  blood  poured  into  my  face  and  without  wait- 


302  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ing  to  serve  her  I  dashed  my  glass  half  full  of 
Chablis  and  drank  to  her  happiness.  Her  colour 
deepened  and  she  was  about  to  say  something,  when 
Victor  came  into  the  room. 

'  There  is  a  workman  downstairs,  m'amselle," 
said  he.  "  I  asked  him  what  he  wanted  and  he  tells 
me  he  has  been  sent  by  the  proprietor  of  the  house 
to  look  over  the  plumbing." 

Leontine  threw  me  a  swift  look.  "  What  sort 
of  a  man  is  he  in  appearance?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  Is  a  respectable-looking  person,  m'amselle 
• —  middle-aged,  with  an  intelligent  face  and  a  beard 
streaked  with  grey." 

"And  his  costume?"  Leontine  interrupted. 

"  He  wears  a  blouse  and  a  black  straw  hat." 

"  I  know  that  man,"  she  interrupted  fiercely. 
"•He  is  an  impostor.  You  may  go  down  and  tell 
him  that  mademoiselle  knows  all  about  him,  and 
that  he  has  come  to  the  wrong  house  and  at  the 
wrong  time.  Tell  him  that  I  say  he  had  better  go  to 
the  Pare  Monceau,  where  he  belongs.  See  that  he 
leaves  the  premises,  Victor." 

"  Very  good,  mam'selle."  And  the  man  slipped 
out. 

Leontine  looked  at  me.  I  had  dropped  my 
hand  into  my  side  pocket  and  was  watching  the 
door. 

"  Frank,"  said  she,  "  I  swear  to  you  that  I  knew 
nothing  of  this.  It  only  goes  to  show  that  Ivan 
and  I  were  right.  Chu-Chu  is  not  to  be  controlled. 
No  doubt  he  has  been  watching  this  house  ever  since 
he  left  the  maison  de  sanle,  which  was  five  days 
ago." 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       303 

I  was  on  my  feet,  slipping  toward  the  door,  for 
I  had  heard  a  step  on  the  stair  and  had  no  intention 
of  being  potted  from  behind  the  door-jamb.  It 
proved  to  be  Victor,  however,  and  he  looked  sur 
prised  and  rather  startled,  I  thought,  to  find  me  con 
fronting  him. 

"  Has  that  man  gone?  "  I  asked  sharply. 

"  Om,  m'sieu." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Nothing,  m'sieu',  except  that  he  thought  it 
probable  that  mam'selle  would  regret  not  having 
allowed  him  to  do  his  work." 

Leontine  had  risen  from  her  chair  and  gone  to 
the  window.  I  followed  her  and  saw  something 
which  puzzled  and  disturbed  me.  Directly  opposite 
stood  Rosalie's  taxicab  and  inside  it  was  Chu-Chu. 
Rosalie  herself  was  in  the  act  of  cranking  the  motor, 
and  as  we  looked  it  started  off  and  she  stepped  up 
to  take  her  seat. 

The  car  started  ahead  and  Rosalie  made  a  turn 
which  brought  her  for  a  moment  head  on  to  the 
house.  Leontine  had  drawn  aside  the  curtains  and 
we  were  standing  side  by  side,  looking  out  over  the 
top  of  the  ivy-covered  iron  fence,  for  the  dining- 
room  was  in  the  entresol.  As  she  turned,  Rosalie 
looked  up  and  saw  us  standing  there  in  the  open 
window;  and,  whether  because  she  suspected  some 
thing  and  acted  out  of  malice  or  whether  from  a  sort 
of  bravado  before  Chu-Chu  I  don't  know,  but  Leon- 
tine  flung  her  arm  carelessly  round  my  shoulder 
—  almost  round  my  neck. 

I  saw  Rosalie's  teeth  come  together  and  she 
threw  out  her  chin  with  a  sort  of  contemptuous  air; 


3o4  THE    CLOSING    NET 

but  Chu-Chu  smiled  wickedly  and  looked  the  other 
way. 

Leontine  and  I  went  back  to  the  table,  both  of  us 
rather  pensive.  Presently  she  said: 

'  That  was  the  '  Countess  Rosalie,'  who  took  you 
out  to  Hertzfeld's  the  other  day,  then  waited  to  bring 
you  back  —  afterward." 

"  Quite  so,"  I  answered. 

Leontine  raised  her  eyebrows.  "  A  conquest?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Rather  more  than  that  —  a  good,  disinterested 
friend." 

''  Really?  "  Leontine  toyed  with  her  poulet-au- 
riz.  Her  colour  faded  slightly.  "  Comparisons 
are  not  polite,  mon  ami,"  she  said. 

"  I  wasn't  making  them.  I  never  considered  you 
in  the  light  of  a  conquest." 

"What  then?" 

"  Oh,  merely  a  woman  of  uncommon  beauty  and 
attainments,  balked  of  a  passing  whim  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life." 

She  laughed  and  seemed  pleased.  The  cleverest 
of  women  —  Leontine  was  scarcely  that,  being  more 
a  creature  of  instinct  than  intellectuality  —  are  sel 
dom  immune  from  flattery. 

"  Does  Chu-Chu  know  that  she  was  driving  me 
that  day?  "  I  asked. 

"  Of  course  not."  Leontine  poured  out  a  little 
red  wine  and  tasted  it  critically  "Ugh!" — she 
gave  a  little  shudder — "the  stuff  has  a  blood  fla 
vour!" 

"Leontine!"  My  voice  was  sharp,  I  think,  be 
cause  she  looked  up  in  surprise  and  the  high  cheeks 
began  to  grow  dusky. 


BACK    INTO    THE    WORLD       305 

"What?" 

"  Does  Chu-Chu  know  that  Countess  Rosalie  is  a 
friend  of  mine?  " 

She  dropped  her  eyes.  "  How  should  I  know?  " 
she  asked  suddenly,  and  looked  as  sulky  as  a  lioness 
that  refuses  to  perform. 

I  could  feel  that  ugly,  venomous,  wild-beast  anger 
that  I  have  been  told  is  peculiar  to  the  criminal  start 
ing  to  ferment  inside  me.  There  was  something 
going  on  here  that  I  couldn't  get  the  feel  of,  and  the 
strangeness  and  danger  of  it  made  me  bristle  like  a 
dog  that  smells  the  scent  of  a  timber  wolf  for  the 
first  time.  What  was  up,  anyway?  Why  should 
Chu-Chu  have  come  into  the  basement  on  a  faked 
errand,  then  go  out,  get  into  Rosalie's  taxi  and  drive 
off?  Why  should  Victor  have  announced  him  and 
Leontine  have  sent  him  about  his  business?  What 
the  deuce  was  behind  it  all?  —  and  was  Rosalie  in 
danger?  That  was  the  main  thing.  I  chucked  all 
thought  of  my  own  position  at  the  bare  idea.  Chu- 
Chu,  Ivan,  Leontine  —  blight  'em  all,  so  far  as  I 
was  concerned;  but  where  had  Chu-Chu  gone  with 
Rosalie? 

The  devils  began  to  dance  and  I  looked  across  at 
Leontine  through  lids  that  were  half  shut  and  things 
showing  red  between.  She  saw  what  was  going  on 
and  her  eyes  began  to  blaze.  We  were  a  nice  young 
pair  of  savages;  and  the  Lord  knows  what  might 
have  come  of  it  if  at  that  moment  the  bell  had  not 
rung. 

"  Ivan,"  said  Leontine  quietly;  and  a  moment  later 
Victor  showed  him  in. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    PASSING   OF    IVAN 

IVAN  greeted  Leontine  in  his  usual  polite  and  formal 
manner,  then  bowed  to  me.  He  looked  very  badly; 
with  black  shadows  under  his  eyes,  and  the  red- 
rimmed,  swollen  lids  told  of  lack  of  sleep.  Yet  the 
eyes  themselves  were  brighter  than  ever  —  too 
bright,  I  thought,  as  they  rested  on  me. 

The  salad  was  being  served  when  Ivan  came  in. 
He  declined  to  eat  anything,  but  took  a  glass  of  the 
Chablis,  and  directly  the  wine  began  to  make  itself 
apparent  in  his  face,  for  he  seldom  touched  anything 
alcoholic. 

"  You  look  badly,"  said  Leontine,  and  shot  a 
glance  at  me.  "  Did  your  conference  with  Chu- 
Chu  go  wrong?  " 

"  Worse  than  that,"  said  Ivan.  "  He  failed  to 
keep  the  rendezvous.  You  can  guess  what  that 
means." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  — "  especially  as  he  was  sit 
ting  in  front  of  the  cafe  opposite  when  Frank  ar 
rived.  That  is  what  has  been  puzzling  us,  because 
afterward  he  came  into  the  house  on  the  silly  pretext 
of  having  been  sent  by  the  proprietor  to  look  over 
the  plumbing.  Frank  sounded  general  quarters  and 
proceeded  to  'cast  loose  and  provide.''  (I  won 
dered  where  she  had  picked  up  that  man-o'-war  ex 
pression.)  "  I  told  Victor  to  tell  him  he  was  wanted 
on  the  Rue  Monceau." 

306 


THE    PASSING    OF    IVAN         307 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that?  "  Ivan  asked. 

"  Nothing,  except  that  he  was  afraid  I  would  re 
gret  having  refused  his  services.  He  went  out  and 
we  saw  him  drive  off  in  the  Countess  Rosalie's  taxi." 

Ivan's  head  turned  slowly  in  the  high  collar  which 
he  invariably  wore,  and  he  gave  me  an  owlish  look. 

"  Is  the  Countess  Rosalie  a  friend  of  Frank's?" 
he  asked;  and  I  stiffened  up  a  little  at  his  free  use  of 
my  name.  Ivan  was  always  markedly  formal. 
There  was  something,  however,  in  the  tired,  finished 
look  of  the  handsome  face  that  prevented  my  taking 
offence. 

"  Leontine  asked  me  that  question  a  while  ago,"  I 
answered.  "  I  told  her  that  Rosalie  was  merely  a 
good,  disinterested  friend  of  mine.  I  got  acquainted 
with  her  when  I  was  hanging  about  the  restaurant 
opposite  and  watching  the  house  for  a  glimpse  of 
Chu-Chu.  I  told  her  I  was  an  Alsatian  prcdica- 
teur." 

Ivan  laughed  softly.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said 
he,  "  she  is  a  compatriot  of  yours,  though  I  never 
would  have  guessed  it  if  I  hadn't  heard  her  turn 
loose  a  torrent  of  American  slang  on  some  rather 
cheap  clients  in  front  of  the  Abbaye.  But  if  she's 
a  friend  it  seems  to  me  that  in  your  case  I'd  feel  a 
bit  uneasy  about  her." 

"Why?"  I  asked.  "Do  you  think  that  Chu- 
Chu  suspected  her  of  having  worked  with  me?  " 

Ivan  shrugged.  "  Who  can  tell?  "  he  answered. 
"  If  he  did,  however,  he  would  be  very  apt  to  pay 
off  his  score  with  her.  He  is  a  consistent  man  — 
not  an  ineffective  like  we  three." 

He  reached  for  the  Chablis  and  refilled  his  turn- 


308  THE    CLOSING    NET 

bier,  drank  it  and  gave  a  little  shudder.  Leontine's 
amber  eyes  flashed  across  to  mine,  carrying  a  double 
question:  "  What  is  the  matter  with  Ivan?  What 
is  the  matter  with  you?  " 

"  Have  you  any  idea  of  where  Chu-Chu  has 
gone?  "  I  asked  Ivan. 

"  I  could  make  a  good  guess,"  he  answered;  u  in 
fact,  I  wouldn't  hesitate  to  trace  Chu-Chu's  man 
oeuvres  from  the  time  you  discovered  him  in  the 
cafe  across  the  street." 

'  Would  you  mind  doing  so?  "  I  asked. 

"Not  in  the  least,"  he  answered  indifferently  — 
"  the  more  so  as  we  three  have  so  much  in  com 
mon." 

"  In  what  way?  "   Leontine   interrupted. 

Ivan's  lips  parted  in  his  thin  smile.  "  We  are 
all  three  of  us  of  the  type  '  incomplete  criminal,'  "  he 
answered.  '  We  have  been  master  thieves  and 
have  risen  high  in  our  profession  despite  our  defects; 
but  not  one  of  us  could  ever  attain  a  real  success  in 
crime  because  we  are  all  of  us  cursed  with  that  pe 
culiar  hampering  quality  which  is  known  as  '  heart.' 
We  have  our  decencies,  our  kindlinesses,  our  petty 
nobilities,  and  no  successful  thief  can  permit  himself 
to  wear  such  clogs  as  these.  Leontine,  for  ex 
ample  "  -  he  glanced  at  me  — "  has  the  infirmity  of 
following  only  the  dictates  of  her  heart  without  ref 
erence  to  her  profit.  You,  Monsieur  Clamart,  have 
the  worm  in  your  criminal  core  in  your  obsession  for 
keeping  your  promised  word.  As  for  me,  I  have 
the  weakness  of  abhorring  physical  pain,  whether 
for  myself  or  others.  My  ancestors  were,  perhaps, 
impaled  by  Hmelnitski,  and  no  doubt  I  inherited  the 


THE    PASSING    OF    IVAN         309 

awful  reflection  of  their  tortures.  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  thrust  a  knife  into  a  man.  I  support  a 
charity  at  Berck  for  children  whose  spines  and  hips 
are  full  of  pain.  I  have  watched  these  little  doomed 
children  —  one  was  my  own  —  and  the  tears  have 
been  wrung  from  my  eyes ;  so  you  see  I  am  really  very 
weak.  As  criminals,  as  thieves,  we  are  crass  fail 
ures,  simply  because  we  are  often  kind;  and,  let  me 
tell  you,  my  fellow-failures,  there  is  no  such  silly 
thing  as  a  kind-hearted  thief.  Call  it  what  you  will 
-theft,  brigandage,  graft  —  whatever  is  dishonest 
is  cruel  and  selfish  and  has  no  place  with  generous 
traits.  To  steal,  to  trick  a  man,  to  take  what  be 
longs  to  another  person,  is  mean  —  just  mean,  and 
there  is  no  getting  round  it.  From  the  mythical 
Robin  Hood  to  our  modern  Arsene  Lupin,  the  thief 
and  his  jackal,  the  swindler,  have  been  glorified  and 
admired;  but  there  is  no  getting  round  the  fact  that 
they  are  mean.  A  dog  that  behaved  in  a  similar  way 
would  be  shot;  and,  though  romance  often  surrounds 
the  thief  with  a  false  glamour,  it  will  be  found  that 
where  he  steals  a  thousand  francs  he  gives  about  five 
in  charity,  and  the  giving  of  that  five  writes  him  as  a 
failure." 

Ivan  sipped  his  Chablis.  "  We  are  failures,  the 
three  of  us,"  said  he.  "  There  is  no  good  in  us. 
We  are  not  even  good  thieves.  Chu-Chu  has  us 
beaten.  He  is  a  consistent  criminal  —  ruthless,  self 
ish,  cruel.  If  he  could  murder  all  the  world  and  be 
left  alone  to  enjoy  their  goods  and  lick  his  lips  in  fat 
plenty,  his  success  would  be  complete.  He  is  a 
tearer-down,  a  destroyer  of  the  established  social 
balance.  A  man  like  myself,  on  the  contrary,  who 


310  THE    CLOSING    NET 

vainly  attempts  to  combine  theft  with  a  vague,  mis 
shapen  sense  of  honour,  is  a  fool.  I  am  a  fool  and 
a  failure.  Leontine  is  a  failure  because  she  thinks 
to  combine  the  wanton  and  the  mother.  Clamart  is 
a  fool  whom  chance  may  see  fit  to  save."  He  looked 
at  me  with  a  bitter  smile. 

Leontine's  maid  came  in  with  the  ice:  a  luscious, 
melting  creation  of  peaches  and  cream,  its  spicy 
odour  permeating  the  room. 

'  Where  is  Victor?  "  asked  Leontine  sharply. 

"  He  has  not  returned,  mam'selle,"  replied  the 
pretty  maid,  and  her  eyes  drifted  to  Ivan,  then  to 
me. 

'  That  ice  looks  delicious,"  said  Ivan.  "  I  shall 
change  my  mind  and  ask  for  some.  My  throat  is 
parched  to-day." 

Leontine  smiled,  helped  herself  and  the  dish  was 
passed  to  me;  but  I  declined,  disliking  sweets.  Ivan 
helped  himself  abundantly.  A  yellow-striped  wasp, 
lured  by  the  sweet,  entangled  himself  in  Leontine's 
ice,  and  she  watched  its  gluttonous  struggles  in  a  curi 
ous,  fascinated  way,  then  rang  for  the  maid  to  serve 
her  afresh.  Ivan  offered  her  his  plate  and,  when 
she  smilingly  declined,  waited  until  she  should 
be  served.  Leontine  rang  again  and  when  the 
maid  did  not  appear  her  face  clouded  with  irrita 
tion. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  my  servants  to-day?  " 
she  demanded  fiercely.  "  I  have  never  been  at 
tended  in  this  haphazard  way  before." 

"  There  is  no  hurry,"  said  Ivan  dreamily. 
"  Eternity  is  before  us." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Count?  "  I  asked. 


THE    PASSING    OF    IVAN         311 

'  You  talk  like  a  man  who  has  reached  the  end  of 
his  string." 

"  I  have,"  he  answered  sombrely. 

Leontine  looked  up  quickly.  '  In  what  way, 
Ivan?"  she  asked.  "If  it  is  money  don't  forget 
that  you  have  rich  and  influential  friends." 

He  smiled  and  let  his  beautifully  shaped  hand  rest 
for  a  moment  on  hers  while  he  toyed  with  his  spoon. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear.  It  is  not  altogether 
money.  I  have  still  a  bone  or  two  buried  under  the 
lilac-bush.  But  I  have  failed  in  my  purpose,  which 
was  to  live  ruthlessly  and  consistently  at  the  expense 
of  a  society  which  I  despise.  I  have  failed.  I  can 
no  longer  hold  my  organisation  —  the  association 
which  I  myself  created.  Chu-Chu  has  ousted  me. 
He  has  been  working  with  the  patient  cunning  of  a 
fox  or  wolf,  and  he  has  made  himself  the  leader  of 
the  pack."  Ivan  looked  at  me  with  a  sardonic  smile ; 
and,  impatient  as  I  was  to  learn  more  of  Chu-Chu's 
present  movements,  something  in  the  man's  face  held 
me  an  attentive  and  fascinated  listener.  His  voice, 
too,  had  a  queer  lifelessness,  the  weary  indifference 
of  a  man  on  his  death-bed,  and  his  words  contained 
the  accent  of  a  valedictory.  Leontine  was  watching 
him  closely,  puzzled  and  disturbed. 

"  Chu-Chu  has  made  himself  the  leader  of  the 
pack,"  he  answered.  "  My  own  life  at  this  moment 
is  no  more  safe  than  Frank's;  and  as  for  my  liberty, 
that  is  less  so."  He  looked  at  me  and  laughed. 
'  That  letter  of  yours  making  me  the  custodian  of 
your  safety  is  a  joke,  my  dear  boy.  I  am  about  as 
able  to  protect  you  at  this  moment  as  you  are  to  pro 
tect  your  little  friend,  the  Countess  Rosalie." 


312  THE    CLOSING    NET 

I  leaned  forward,  startled.  "What's  that?"  I 
asked  sharply.  "What  makes  you  say  that? 
What  do  you  know  anyway?  " 

Leontine  interrupted.  "  Eat  your  ice,  Ivan,"  said 
she  impatiently — "  it  is  melting,"  And  she  pushed 
her  bell  viciously. 

I  glanced  at  her  and  was  puzzled  at  the  sudden 
hardening  of  her  face  —  or,  I  might  better  say,  at 
the  ferocity  of  her  face;  for  there  was  never  the  least 
suggestion  of  either  hardness  or  coarseness  about  the 
Polish  girl.  She  could  be  soft  and  melting,  or  hot 
and  fierce  and  passionate  —  dangerous  as  a  leopard 
ess,  but  she  hadn't  a  trace  of  that  female  brutality 
sometimes  to  be  found  in  the  Anglo-Saxon. 

It  came  into  my  head  that  they  were  playing  with 
me,  that  Ivan's  pose  was  a  clever  and  consummately 
skilful  bit  of  acting,  that  he  knew  nothing  of  Rosalie 
and  had  lied  about  Chu-Chu,  and  that  the  table  con 
versation  might  wind  up  in  one  of  two  ways  —  a 
swift  and  silent  attack,  or  possibly  a  request  that  for 
the  sake  of  others  I  should  withdraw  my  statement, 
since  he,  Ivan,  was  a  beaten  man  and  powerless 
to  protect  me. 

What  Ivan  said  next  put  me  off  my  reckoning 
again. 

"  At  this  moment,"  said  Ivan,  "  Chu-Chu  is  prob 
ably  at  a  little  country  house  of  his,  near  Meudon. 
He  has  called  a  meeting  of  my  malcontents  and  they 
are  planning  to  reorganise,  with  Chu-Chu  as  chief. 
Things  are  to  be  run  on  a  more  consistent  scheme 
and  operators  are  not  to  be  forbidden  to  take  life  as 
the  occasion  may  arise.  If  the  Countess  Rosalie  has 
taken  Chu-Chu  all  the  way  out  there,  I  would  say 


THE    PASSING    OF    IVAN         313 

that  she  is  exposed  to  some  personal  danger.  It  is 
a  lonely  place  —  the  house  surrounded  by  a  park, 
hidden  from  the  road;  and  the  whole  property  is  sur 
rounded  by  a  high  wall.  You  may  have  noticed  it  in 
passing;  the  gates  are  copied  from  those  of  Mal- 
maison.  It  is  the  first  big  place  on  the  road  which 
leads  over  the  hill  to  enter  the  forest.  Chu-Chu  has 
had  it  for  some  years  under  his  name  of  Monsieur 
de  Maxeville.  I  have  been  out  there  several  times. 
The  house  is  small,  but  handsomely  furnished  and 
full  of  his  hunting  trophies  —  lions  from  the  Masai 
country  and  some  handsome  specimens  from  the 
French  Congo.  When  he  doesn't  hunt  men  he  re 
creates  himself  by  torturing  animals.  Just  at  this 
moment  you  would  probably  find  in  the  house  about 
as  select  an  assortment  of  human  wild  beasts  as 
could  be  gathered  together  in  the  whole  of  Europe." 
He  changed  his  tone.  "  How  hot  it  is  !  I  am  going 
to  follow  your  directions,  Leontine,  and  eat  my  ice. 
It  is  delicious."  He  took  a  spoonful.  '  Your  chef 
has  been  liberal  with  his  peach-pits  —  still,  the  bitter 
flavour  is  rather  tonic  and  refreshing."  He  took  an 
other  spoonful  of  the  pink,  half-melted  cream. 
"  Look,  Leontine,"  said  he,  "  that  yellow-striped 
wasp  has  made  such  a  glutton  of  himself  that  he  is 
dead." 

Leontine  did  not  appear  to  be  listening,  however. 
Her  bare  elbow  was  on  the  rim  of  the  table,  her  chin 
resting  on  the  knuckles  of  her  half-closed  hand,  and 
her  amber  eyes  were  brooding  and  thoughtful. 

"  What  do  you  think  was  Chu-Chu's  object  in 
coming  here?  "  she  asked. 

Ivan  paused,  with  his  spoon  halfway  to  his  lips. 


314  THE    CLOSING    NET 

"  It  is  plain  enough,"  said  he.  "  Chu-Chu  hoped 
to  get  within  striking  distance  of  Frank.  When  he 
saw  that  he  had  been  recognised  he  gave  it  up  in  dis 
gust.  Chu-Chu  has  been  haunting  the  cafe  opposite 
since  he  recovered  from  his  wound.  Do  take  some 
of  this  ice.  It  is  delicious  —  especially  to-day,  when 
the  atmosphere  is  so  hot  and  heavy.  One  can  hardly 
get  one's  breath." 

I  was  looking  at  Leontine  and  I  saw  her  eyes  open 
wider  and  the  colour  fade  in  her  cheeks. 

"Ivan!  "  she  cried.      "Are  you  ill?" 

"I--I  do  feel  —  a  little  —  odd,"  he  answered 
in  a  stifled  voice.  I  turned  sharply  to  look  at  him, 
and  saw  that  his  lips  were  blue  and  a  curious  mot 
tled  look  was  spreading  over  his  face.  He  glanced 
from  one  to  the  other  of  us,  then  stared  at  his  plate. 
His  breath  was  coming  in  gasps  and  his  face  was 
tense  and  wore  a  startled,  frightened  expression, 
but  even  as  I  watched  him  this  passed  and  he  smiled. 

"  Ah!  "  he  said  quickly.  "  I  begin  to  understand. 
So  —  that  —  was  —  Chu-Chu's  —  errand  here ! 

And  Victor?''  His  head  fell  forward,  but  he 
jerked  it  back. 

Leontine  sprang  to  her  feet.  Ivan's  face  was  blue 
and  his  eyes  protruded. 

"It's  —  that  ice!  Don't  —  touch  it,  my — • 
friends !  That  strong  flavour  of  the  peach-pits  —  I 
—  I  —  ought  to  —  have  known  ! '' 

Suddenly  he  pitched  forward  across  the  table.  I 
sprang  to  my  feet  and,  lifting  him  in  my  arms,  car 
ried  him  to  the  divan,  laid  him  down  and  tore  open 
his  collar.  His  face  was  cyanosed,  as  the  face  of  a 
person  under  gas. 


THE    PASSING    OF    IVAN         315 

"That — dead  wasp!"  he  gasped.  "I  might 
have  guessed!  " 

His  arm  slipped  off  his  chest  and  fell  limply. 
There  were  strangling  noises  in  his  throat.  Then 
the  blue  colour  faded,  leaving  the  beautifully  chis 
elled  features  of  a  marble  pallor.  I  turned  and 
looked  at  Leontine,  who  was  standing,  half  crouched, 
both  hands  pressed  against  her  temples. 

"  He  is  dead!  "  I  told  her  gently. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    NET    CLOSES 

LEONTINE  had  risen  from  her  chair  and  was  stand 
ing  with  her  body  bent  forward,  her  finger  tips  poised 
on  the  table,  her  eyes  wild  with  horror.  When  I 
turned  and  told  her  that  Ivan  was  dead  she  sprang 
back,  overturning  her  chair;  then  swept  around  the 
table  and  dropped  on  her  knees  at  the  head  of  the 
couch.  Here  was  no  acting,  as  one  could  plainly  see ; 
and,  in  fact,  Ivan  himself  had  solved  the  mystery  in 
his  last  words. 

Leontine  seemed  daft  with  grief  and  dismay. 
"Ivan!"  she  cried.  "Oh,  Ivan  —  my  dear! 
Speak  to  me!  Speak  to  me!  "  She  stared  back  at 
me  over  her  shoulder.  "Frank!  Frank!"  she 
groaned.  "  Is  there  nothing  we  can  do?  " 

''  It  is  too  late,"  I  answered.  "  The  man  is  dead. 
Chu-Chu  poisoned  the  ice  with  prussic  acid  or  some 
of  its  deadly  combinations.  He  bribed  or  coerced 
Victor.  You  will  never  see  the  man  again." 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  arms,  leaning  against 
the  body.  One  might  almost  have  thought  that  she 
had  loved  Ivan,  but  I  knew  that  was  not  so.  She 
liked  and  admired  him,  and  the  two  had  been  not 
only  close  associates  in  their  criminal  enterprises, 
but  staunch  friends  as  well.  More  than  that,  I  had 
always  suspected  Ivan  of  a  hopeless  passion  for 
Leontine.  I  think,  still,  that  he  may  have  been  the 
only  man  who  had  ever  loved  her  in  a  really  clean 

316 


THE    NET    CLOSES  317 

and  unselfish  way,  and  I  believe  that  he  would  have 
tried  to  redeem  her  to  a  course  of  right  living  if  the 
scheme  of  their  lives  had  been  planned  differently; 
but  I  do  not  believe  that  Leontine  could  ever  have 
cared  for  Ivan  other  than  as  a  sympathetic  friend. 
Chu-Chu  himself  would  have  stood  a  better  chance. 
Ivan  was  too  gentle  physically,  and  Leontine  had 
much  of  the  savage  in  her  composition.  To  win  her 
desire  a  man  would  have  had  first  to  dominate  her, 
mind  and  body.  Women  of  the  Leontine  sort  are 
better  wooed  with  a  club  and  an  oath  than  with 
flowers  and  a  song. 

Yet  there  was  plenty  of  savage  tenderness  in  her, 
as  I  now  saw,  and  there  was  something  beautiful  and 
touching  in  her  grief  over  the  dead  criminal.  Her 
sorrow  was  generous  and  sincere,  and  unmindful  of 
the  ugly  position  she  was  in.  She  was  thinking  only 
of  the  brilliant,  fascinating,  and  even  lovable  per 
sonality  blotted  out  in  two  brief  minutes  as  he  sat 
at  her  hospitable  board. 

I  was  thinking  of  the  other,  however,  if  Leontine 
was  not;  and  it  seemed  to  me  there  was  a  lot  of 
trouble  ahead.  I  got  up  and  shut  the  two  doors  and 
locked  them,  then  stepped  to  Leontine's  side  and 
raised  her  from  beside  the  divan  and  placed  her  in  a 
chair. 

"  We  must  decide  on  what  steps  to  take,  my  dear," 
I  said  firmly.  "  Here  we  have  a  dead  man  and  a 
bowlful  of  poisoned  peach  ice-cream,  and  no  very 
plausible  explanation  of  the  circumstances  to  offer. 
What's  to  be  done?" 

Leontine  pulled  herself  together  with  some  effort. 

"  I  don't  know,   Frank.     I   don't   seem   able   t* 


3i8  THE    CLOSING    NET 

think  "  -she  glanced  at  the  clock — "  and  Kharkoff 
is  coming  at  four." 

'  The  police  suspected  Ivan  of  something,"  said 
I,  "  but  have  no  positive  proof  that  he  belonged  to  a 
criminal  organisation.  Let  us  see  if  he's  got  any 
thing  compromising  about  him  now.  If  so,  it  would 
make  the  statement  that  he  was  poisoned  by  Chu- 
Chu  more  plausible." 

I  stepped  to  the  divan,  ran  my  hand  through 
Ivan's  pockets  and  brought  to  light,  besides  the  usual 
small  articles,  a  porte-monnaie  and  a  letter  sealed 
and  addressed,  but  not  stamped.  Turning  it  in  my 
hand,  I  was  surprised  to  see  that  it  was  addressed 
to  Leontine. 

The  tears  gushed  to  her  eyes  as  she  took  it,  broke 
the  seal,  and  quickly  ran  it  through.  Watching  her 
closely,  I  saw  the  colour  come  and  go  in  her  face, 
while  the  tears  flowed  faster.  The  note  was  brief, 
and,  as  she  finished  reading,  Leontine  flung  the  letter 
toward  me  on  the  table,  and,  dropping  her  face  in 
her  hands,  wept  silently. 

I  picked  up  the  note,  which  was  wet  and  tear- 
stained,  but  written  in  Ivan's  clear,  regular  hand. 
It  was  in  French,  and  read  as  follows: 

"  Leontine,  my  dear  friend,  this  is  but  a  word  of  farewell. 
My  tortuous  course  is  sped  —  my  ill-spent  life  nearly  at  its 
end. 

"  In  this  twilight  of  my  soul  I  see  but  two  bright  stars  — 
one  whom  I  dearly  loved  and  who  has  gone  before,  and  who 
perhaps   may    intercede   for   my   mistakes   before   the   Great 
Tribunal.     The  other  is  a  dear  friend  whom  I  leave  behind, 
and  who  will  mourn  me  as  one  less  evil  than  mistaken. 

"  Leontine,  you  are  my  dearest  living  friend,  and  I  wish  to 


THE    NET    CLOSES  319 

be  near  you  when  I  slip  into  the  shadows.     Will  you  for 
give  me,  dear? 

"  Good-night,  then,  and  God  bless  and  keep  you! 

"  IVAN." 


I  laid  the  note  down  and  stared  at  Leontine. 

"  What  does  it  mean?  "  I  gasped.  "  Did  he  com 
mit  suicide?  " 

Leontine  shook  her  head.  "No,  Frank' — at 
least,  I  do  not  think  so.  Chu-Chu  saved  him  that. 
But  Ivan  plainly  meant  to  kill  himself.  That  is  why 
his  manner  was  so  strange  —  so  weary  and  final. 
You  know  you  said  something  about  his  talking  like 
a  man  at  the  end  of  his  string  —  and  he  answered  that 
he  was.  He  meant  to  kill  himself,  either  here  or 
not  far  away." 

I  nodded.  "  This  note  will  clear  you,  Leontine. 
But  throw  away  the  rest  of  that  ice  and  wash  out  the 
bowl.  Do  so  at  once." 

Leontine  nodded  and  removed  the  ice.  When  she 
returned  I  said  to  her: 

"  Wait  until  I  have  been  gone  for  about  ten  min 
utes,  then  telephone  for  the  police.  The  case  will 
appear  sufficiently  plain.  Ivan  came  here  to  die  near 
you." 

"  But  where  are  you  going,  Frank?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  settle  his  account  with  Chu-Chu," 
I  answered — "  and  my  own!  " 

So  I  went  into  the  hot  street,  caught  a  taxi  at  the 
corner,  and  hurried  to  the  Prefecture  of  Police. 
The  Prefect  knew  my  early  history,  of  course,  just  as 
he  knows  that  of  many  other  former  criminals  who 
are  now  honoured  members  of  society. 


320  THE    CLOSING    NET 

'  Where  have  you  been?  "  he  asked.  "  My  men 
had  entirely  lost  sight  of  you,  and  I  was  beginning  to 
be  afraid  of  a  relapse." 

"  Monsieur  need  not  have  been  anxious,"  I  an 
swered.  "  My  disappearance  was  not  for  any  crim 
inal  purpose.  Quite  the  contrary.  Monsieur  le 
Prefet  may  remember  that  when  he  was  so  lenient  as 
to  pardon  me,  he  tried  to  extract  certain  information 
in  regard  to  a  suspected  criminal  organisation?" 

"  Quite  so,"  answered  the  Prefect  dryly,  "  and  you 
declined  to  furnish  it  on  the  ground  that  you  had  just 
arrived  from  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and 
knew  nothing  about  our  European  thieves.  Of 
course,  I  did  not  believe  you." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  I,  "  this  defective  knowledge 
has  since  been  remedied.  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  I  can  now  take  monsieur  to  a  rendezvous  of  the 
most  important  malefactors  on  this  side  of  the  ocean. 
The  chief  of  the  band  is  none  other  than  Chu-Chu 
le  Tondeur." 

The  Prefect's  head  shot  forward,  and  he  glared  at 
me  across  his  desk. 

"What!  "  he  cried — "you  can  lead  me  to  Chu- 
Chu  and  his  gang?  " 

"  I  think  so,  monsieur." 

"Where  are  they?" 

"  At  Meudon." 

He  leaned  still  closer,  his  eyes  like  gimlets  and  his 
jaw  set. 

"Is  it" — his  voice  was  almost  a  whisper  — 
"  Monsieur  de  Maxeville?  " 

"  Monsieur  de  Maxeville  and  Chu-Chu  le  Tondeur 
are  the  same  person." 


THE    NET    CLOSES  321 

An  unholy  light  blazed  from  his  fierce  old  face. 
"  I  knew  it,"  he  cried  softly — "  or,  at  least,  I  sus 
pected  it.  For  a  while  my  suspicion  rested  on  an 
other  man,  but  I  discovered  a  few  days  ago  that  he 
was  merely  a  political  intrigant.  So  it  had  to  be 
Maxeville  !  But  the  man  had  disappeared  as  though 
the  earth  had  swallowed  him  up.  How  many  do 
you  think  there  are  at  this  rendezvous?  " 

"Six  or  eight  —  ten,  perhaps.  Chu-Chu  is  the 
only  one  of  whom  I  know  anything  personally  or 
would  recognise  by  sight." 

"  My  men  will  know  the  others."  He  touched  a 
bell,  then,  as  the  attendant  entered,  left  the  room  to 
make  his  arrangements  for  himself.  These  did  not 
take  long  and  presently  he  returned. 

"  We  will  go  out  there  immediately,"  said  he.  "  I 
shall  conduct  this  affair  myself.  There  are  reasons 
why  I  wish  to  have  it  managed  as  quietly  as  possible 
—  political  reasons,  you  understand.  Even  the 
Press  will  be  instructed  to  be  discreet.  As  for  your 
self,  Monsieur  Clamart,  if  the  business  turns  out  suc 
cessfully  you  may  be  assured  of  my  most  distin 
guished  consideration." 

I  thanked  him,  then  asked  how  many  men  he  was 
taking  to  capture  the  gang. 

"  I  am  taking  six,"  he  answered,  "  and  they  will 
go  in  plain  clothes  in  two  taxis.  You  and  I  will  go 
in  my  own  private  car.  You  can  designate  the  place, 
then  wait  for  me  in  the  car." 

"  Very  well,  monsieur,"  I  answered,  and  wondered 
what  he  would  think  if  he  could  guess  at  my  own  lit 
tle  scheme. 

The  Prefect  was  a  good  policeman  and  it  didn't 


322  THE    CLOSING    NET 

take  him  long  to  operate.  There  was  no  noise  or 
fuss  about  it,  either;  and  we  went  down  into  the  court 
and  got  into  his  car  and  slipped  off  down  the  right 
bank  of  the  Seine  as  if  we  were  going  for  a  little 
airing.  We  took  it  easily,  though,  for  the  six  plain- 
clothes  men  were  following  us  in  taxis  driven  by 
special  police  chauffeurs. 

The  Prefect  was  silent  for  a  while,  but  I  could  tell 
he  was  doing  some  hard  thinking  by  the  number  of 
white  bristles  he  pulled  out  of  his  moustache.  Pres 
ently  he  said: 

"  What  was  your  motive  in  giving  me  this  infor 
mation  —  a  desire  to  be  of  service  to  the  State?  " 

"  A  desire  to  be  of  service  to  myself,  monsieur," 
I  answered,  and  the  Prefect  cackled  outright.  He 
himself  loved  the  State  about  as  much  as  any  stiff- 
necked  old  royalist  could  be  expected  to  love  a  poorly 
run  republic. 

"  Perhaps  Le  Tondeur  regards  you  as  a  renegade 
and  would  like  to  be  rid  of  you,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  doubt  if  he  knows  I  am  alive,"  I  answered, 
and  with  perfect  truth.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  think 
Chu-Chu  had  been  waiting  in  the  Bon  Cocher  with 
the  idea  of  poisoning  Ivan,  who  had  probably  told 
him  that  he  expected  to  lunch  with  Leontine  after 
their  conference.  My  presence  he  no  doubt  re 
garded  as  a  direct  act  of  friendship  on  the  part  of  his 
patron,  the  devil.  No  doubt  he  would  have  been 
quite  pleased  to  have  gathered  in  the  three  of  us, 
knowing  that  Leontine  would  remain  a  partisan  to 
Ivan.  The  poison  was  not  so  quick  that  we  might 
not  have  gone  all  together  if  served  at  the  same  time. 
Chu-Chu  was  rather  adept  with  poisons. 


THE    NET   CLOSES  323 

The  Prefect  was  silent  again,  and  made  only  one 
or  two  remarks  until  we  had  almost  reached  Meu- 
don.  Then  he  said: 

"  Whatever  your  motive,  my  friend,  you  are  not 
to  consider  me  inappreciative.  If  I  can  break  up  this 
gang  it  will  be  a  great  triumph  not  only  for  me  but 
for  my  friends.  Frankly,  this  wave  of  crime  which 
has  submerged  France  for  the  past  year  has  been 
used  against  us  and  our  party." 

It  was  not  very  plain  to  me  just  what  he  was  driv 
ing  at,  but  that  did  not  much  matter,  as  I  was  busy 
studying  out  my  own  end  of  the  business.  I  was  con 
fident  that  Chu-Chu  would  never  be  taken  alive,  and 
my  greatest  fear  was  that  he  might  get  clean  away. 
That  was  what  I  was  out  to  prevent,  though  I  said 
nothing  about  it  to  the  Prefect. 

We  sped  through  Meudon,  taking  the  road  which 
Ivan  had  described,  and  presently  we  came  to  the 
corner  of  the  ivy-covered  wall  that  enclosed  the  en 
tire  property  —  three  or  four  hectares,  I  should  say, 
running  from  the  road  back  down  the  hill  to  the 
river  —  the  whole  densely  wooded,  so  that  the  house 
was  not  visible  from  the  road.  The  frontage  was 
rather  narrow  and  I  noticed  that  the  ground  was 
fairly  open  on  each  side. 

I  suggested  to  the  Prefect  that  he  hadn't  a  very 
big  force  to  capture  such  a  dangerous  band,  but  he 
shrugged. 

"  I  am  an  old  soldier,"  said  he,  "  and  count  the 
odds  as  four  to  one  in  a  surprise.  Besides,  these  are 
picked  men  and  not  to  be  bluffed  by  a  handful  of 
thieves." 

We  whirled  past  the  front  of  the  estate  and  I  no- 


324  THE    CLOSING    NET 

ticed  that  the  entrance  gates  were  copied,  as  Ivan 
had  said,  from  those  of  Malmaison.  At  a  little 
distance  beyond  the  farther  corner  of  the  wall  the 
Prefect  told  his  driver  to  stop,  and  a  moment  later 
the  two  other  taxis  came  up  and  the  men  got  out. 
They  were  a  businesslike-looking  outfit,  two  of  them 
old  acquaintances  of  mine;  and  their  eyes  lightened 
a  little  as  we  exchanged  nods. 

The  Prefect  lost  no  time  about  his  plans. 

"  Leclerc,  Dumas,  Levoisin  and  Bourdet,  go  down 
along  the  wall  for  about  a  hundred  metres, 
then  climb  over  and  surround  the  house.  Wag 
ner  and  De  Lefferts,  come  with  me.  We  will 
enter  by  the  front  as  soon  as  you  others  are  inside. 
You  drivers,  stay  by  your  cars.  Roux,  take  a 
position  similar  to  this  on  the  other  corner. 
4  lions!" 

"  If  I  can  be  of  service  to  Monsieur  le  Pre- 
fet-  'I  began,  knowing  well  enough  what  the 
answer  would  be. 

"  Mcrci"  he  snapped.  "  You  had  better  stay 
with  the  car.  Now  then,  let's  be  off." 

The  four  men  detailed  to  surround  the  house 
slipped  into  the  bushes  that  fringed  the  wall  and  dis 
appeared.  Giving  them  a  few  moments'  start,  the 
Prefect  and  his  two  companions  walked  down  to  the 
front  gate,  where  one  of  them  slipped  over  and 
opened  the  small  door  for  the  others.  The  three 
chauffeurs,  agreeing  to  horn  three  times  as  a  signal 
of  alarm,  took  up  their  positions,  one  of  the  taxis 
going  back  down  the  road  and  the  other  remaining 
with  the  Prefect's  limousine. 

As  soon  as  the  Prefect  had  disappeared  I  strolled 


THE    NET    CLOSES  325 

casually  into  the  thicket,  following  the  direction 
taken  by  the  first  four. 

;' Where  are  you  going?"  called  the  Prefect's 
chauffeur,  himself  a  policeman. 

"  I  am  going  to  where  I  can  listen  in  case  they 
need  our  help,"  I  answered  shortly,  and  kept  on, 
leaving  him  dissatisfied  but  not  knowing  just  what 
to  do  about  it.  Once  out  of  sight  I  broke  into  a  run, 
skirting  the  wall  until  I  came  to  where  it  turned  at 
right  angles  to  enclose  the  lower  extremity  of  the 
park.  This  wall  I  followed  along  until  I  came  to 
what  I  was  looking  for,  and  that  was  a  small  door 
in  the  rear,  opening  on  a  path  which  led  down 
through  the  woods  to  the  bank  of  the  Seine. 

This  was  the  way  that  Chu-Chu  would  certainly 
come  if  he  broke  through  the  slight  cordon.  I  no 
more  believed  that  the  old  Prefect  and  his  six  men 
would  be  able  to  round  up  and  capture  Chu-Chu 
than  that  they  could  have  surrounded  a  wolf  in  a 
patch  of  bruyere  and  caught  him  by  the  tail.  Chu- 
Chu  was  not  the  ordinary  house-rat  —  he  was  big 
game  —  a  hunter  and  lion-killer,  and  his  instincts 
were  those  of  a  wild  animal.  Something  told  me 
that  when  he  broke  from  his  lair  it  would  be  for  the 
thickest  part  of  the  park  and  toward  the  river;  in 
fact,  there  was  no  other  way  to  go,  as  the  open 
highway  was  in  front  and  the  ground  more  or  less 
open  on  each  side  of  the  estate. 

If  the  police  managed  to  stop  him,  so  much  the 
better,  as  in  that  case  he  would  be  dead.  If  he 
broke  through,  then  it  was  up  to  me  to  stop  him  my 
self.  And  that  is  what  I  was  there  for.  So,  when 
I  came  to  the  little  door  of  oak  and  iron,  I  made  a 


326  THE    CLOSING    NET 

jump  for  the  top  of  the  wall  and  swarmed  over,  then 
dropped  on  the  other  side  and  waited  —  but  not  for 
long. 

The  undergrowth  right  there  was  very  thick  and 
had  that  tropical  luxuriance  which  you  find  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Seine  in  the  late  summer,  especially 
when  the  season  has  been  warm  and  moist.  There 
was  a  little  path  that  wound  between  thickets  and 
heavy  masses  of  laurel,  ivy  and  holly.  One  could 
only  see  a  few  feet  in  any  direction,  but  I  had  scarcely 
struck  the  ground  when  I  heard  the  noise  of  people 
hurrying  through  the  under-growth. 

"  Chu-Chu  and  his  mob,"  I  said  to  myself-  "  the 
whole  gang  has  got  past  the  police!  " 

Let  me  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  for  a  second  I 
wished  I  had  not  been  quite  so  rash.  I  had  counted 
on  tackling  Chu-Chu,  but  had  never  thought  of  its 
being  necessary  to  take  on  the  whole  bunch.  On  the 
contrary,  it  seemed  more  probable  that  Chu-Chu 
would  have  used  the  others  to  cover  his  own  retreat. 
He  was  no  coward,  but  he  was  a  consistent  thief, 
and  Ivan  was  right  when  he  said  that  the  first  re 
quirement  for  success  in  any  line  of  graft  is  absolute 
selfishness.  Many  an  able  thief  has  gone  under  due 
to  a  flash  of  decent  feeling,  but  that  would  never 
have  been  the  cause  of  Chu-Chu's  finish. 

Here  came  a  gang  of  them,  and  they  were  coming 
fast  and  as  silently  as  they  could  through  that  tangle 
—  a  whole  band,  with  Chu-Chu  in  the  lead.  I 
looked  over  my  shoulder  at  the  wall  and  wished  that 
I  were  back  on  the  other  side.  I  had  an  automatic 
pistol  that  held  eleven  cartridges,  and  there  was  a 
handy  knife  in  my  belt,  but  the  odds  were  too  heavy. 


THE    NET    CLOSES  327 

For  the  moment  I  was  tempted  to  skin  over  that 
wall  like  a  cat.  Then  I  thought  of  Ivan;  and,  as  it 
got  hold  of  my  mind  that  here  was  the  mur 
derous  devil  who  had  just  tried  to  poison  the  three 
of  us  —  and  one  a  woman  —  slipping  up  to  me 
through  the  bush,  something  stronger  than  the  love 
of  life  blazed  up  inside  me.  I  whipped  out  the  pis 
tol  and  waited. 

The  crashing  noise  grew  louder  and  I  could  hear 
panting  breaths.  Then  out  of  a  tangle  of  laurel 
not  twenty  feet  in  front  of  me  burst  Chu-Chu,  and  he 
reminded  me  of  a  boar.  He  was  still  in  his  work 
man's  blouse,  and  he  carried  the  black  straw  in  his 
hand.  The  sweat  was  pouring  from  his  white  face 
and  his  lips  were  drawn  back  and  showed  the  yellow 
teeth. 

At  sight  of  me  he  never  so  much  as  paused.  His 
hand  went  to  the  V-shaped  opening  of  his  blouse, 
and  at  the  same  instant  I  fired  into  him.  Down  he 
went  with  a  crash,  then  began  to  scramble  on  all 
fours  toward  the  foot  of  a  chestnut  tree  a  few  metres 
away.  I  fired  again  and  brought  a  snarl  out  of  him, 
but  he  scrambled  all  the  faster.  Then  a  gun 
cracked  to  the  left  of  me  and  I  felt  the  scorch  of  a 
bullet  across  the  chest.  I  spun  round,  and  there 
was  Chu-Chu's  mate,  the  man  with  one  nostril  wider 
than  the  other.  He  was  standing  by  the  wall  and  as 
I  turned  he  fired  again  and  so  did  another  man  who 
had  burst  out  behind  Chu-Chu.  Then  Chu-Chu  him 
self  opened  up  from  the  ground  and  I  came  down  in 
a  heap. 

It  was  only  a  broken  shinbone,  and  from  where  I 
lay  I  got  the  Oriental  chap  and  another  man  who 


328  THE    CLOSING    NET 

had  made  a  jump  for  the  wall.  Yells  and  orders 
were  ringing  out  from  up  by  the  house  and  men  were 
crashing  down  the  hill.  Chu-Chu  was  somewhere  in 
the  thicket,  and  I  wanted  him  bad;  so  I  started  in  on 
hands  and  knees.  His  pistol  cracked  in  front  of  me, 
and  the  blood  came  pouring  down  into  my  eyes,  but  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  him  huddled  behind  the  chest 
nut,  ten  feet  in  front  of  me,  and  I  took  a  snapshot 
and  smashed  his  hand  as  it  was  shoved  out,  gripping 
his  weapon.  He  snarled  like  a  cat,  then  came 
bounding  out  from  behind  his  tree;  and,  though  my 
gun  went  off  against  his  body,  it  never  stopped  him, 
and  the  next  instant  his  grip  was  on  my  wrist  and  his 
teeth  in  the  muscles  of  my  neck.  I  got  my  left  arm 
clear,  however,  and  as  we  rolled  over,  lashing  out 
like  a  couple  of  wild  beasts,  I  got  the  hilt  of  my 
knife  with  my  left  hand,  and,  squirming  up  on  top, 
I  let  the  life  out  of  him. 


CHAPTER  X 

INTO   THE    LIGHT 

YES,  the  whole  business  was  kept  mighty  quiet.  Lots 
of  people  never  really  knew  just  my  part  in  the  affair. 
The  Prefect  thought  it  better  to  hush  up  the  outside 
assistance  and  let  it  go  in  as  a  police  job.  It  was  all 
the  same  to  me,  though,  as  Chu-Chu  was  dead  and 
his  pal  was  dead  and  two  others  of  the  gang  were 
dead.  None  got  away,  and  the  ones  taken  were  no 
great  shucks,  and  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  in  the  fu 
ture.  Anyway,  they'd  heard  of  me  and  asked  noth 
ing  better  than  to  try  to  forget  me. 

It  was  no  such  cinch  as  a  couple  of  weeks  in  bed 
this  time.  I  was  shot  all  to  pieces,  and  was  six 
weeks  on  my  back,  and  my  leg  in  a  box,  with  a 
weight  swinging  from  the  foot;  and  the  police  sur 
geon  says  that  I'll  limp  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  The 
Prefect  took  me  to  my  own  little  garconniere  and  de 
tailed  his  own  doctor  to  fix  me  up. 

John  got  back  to  Paris  after  his  "  cure,"  and  came 
in  every  day  to  see  me.  Edith  never  came.  She 
still  thinks  that  I  broke  my  word,  and  my  honest  hope 
is  that  she  will  keep  on  thinking  so  to  her  dying  day; 
but  she  kept  my  room  bright  with  flowers.  John 
knew  the  whole  story,  of  course.  He  was  a  different 
man,  I  thought,  and  a  finer  one;  and  he  told  me  that 
it  only  needed  me  on  my  feet  again  to  make  the  motor 
business  a  big  success.  And  he  was  right. 

Ivan's  death  made  a  big  stir,  but  only  for  its  ro- 

329 


330  THE    CLOSING    NET 

mantic  interest  and  the  fact  that  Ivan  himself  was  so 
well  known  and  well  liked  round  the  town.  The 
case  was  so  evidently  one  of  suicide  that  not  even 
the  most  enterprising  reporter  tried  to  make  a  "  mys 
tery  case  "  of  it.  Leontine  came  to  see  me  several 
times.  Then  she  went  away,  and  I  learned  after 
ward  that  she  had  gone  to  Berck  to  look  after  Ivan's 
charity  for  the  tuberculous  children.  Ivan  was  not 
quite  square  with  Leontine;  there  was  a  lot  more  of 
the  mother  in  her  than  of  the  wanton. 

I  had  been  laid  up  about  a  fortnight  when  my 
nurse  came  in  one  day,  with  a  grin,  to  tell  me  that  the 
Countess  Rosalie  had  called  to  see  me. 

"  Show  her  in,"  I  snapped,  "  and  leave  us  alone. 
She  is  an  old  friend  of  mine." 

Rosalie  looked  pale,  and  her  smile  as  she  gave  me 
her  hand  was  forced  and  tired. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  I  in  English.  "  There  are  a  lot 
of  things  I  want  to  say  to  you." 

She  dropped  in  the  chair  at  the  head  of  my  bed 
and  I  took  her  hand.  Rosalie  did  not  try  to  draw  it 
away. 

"Why  haven't  you  been  to  see  me?"  I  asked. 
"  You  got  my  message?  " 

"  Yes;  but  I  thought  you  would  be  well  enough 
looked  after  without  me." 

"  If  you  are  thinking  of  La  Petrovski,"  said  I, 
"  let  me  tell  you  that  there  has  never  been  anything 
between  us  —  and  never  will  be.  She  is  not  in  love 
with  me  —  nor  I  with  her.  The  nearest  I  ever  came 
to  being  really  in  love  with  any  woman  was  in  a  little 
studio  apartment  on  the  Rue  Vaugirard,  where  it 
seemed  to  me  that  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  had 


INTO    THE    LIGHT  331 

found  the  real  thing  without  any  alloy  —  but  I  guess 
I  was  wrong." 

Rosalie  grew  rather  pale,  but  did  not  answer. 

"  Were  you  in  the  house  when  that  man  killed 
himself?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  that,"  I  answered,  "  and 
of  what  happened  afterwards  —  and  why  it 
did." 

So  I  gave  her  the  whole  yarn,  speaking  in  English, 
which  nobody  in  the  house  understood.  Rosalie 
listened,  scarcely  breathing,  and  her  colour  came  and 
went  like  the  draught  on  a  red  coal. 

"  So  you  see,  little  girl,"  I  wound  up,  "  you  your 
self  were  the  immediate  and  direct  cause  of  Chu- 
Chu's  finish." 

"  And  I  never  for  a  moment  suspected  that  it  was 
Chu-Chu !  "  said  she.  "  He  told  me  when  he  took 
me  that  he  was  a  plumber  who  had  just  received  a 
telephone  call  to  drop  the  job  he  was  on  and  hurry 
out  to  Meudon  to  stop  a  leak  in  a  waterpipe  that  was 
destroying  the  ceiling.  I  took  him  to  the  house  and 
he  asked  me  to  wait,  but  I  could  not  do  so  because 
I  had  an  engagement  with  a  regular  client."  She 
looked  at  me  with  shining  eyes.  "  And  so  you  hur 
ried  out  there  on  my  account?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered.  "  I  meant  to  put  the  police 
on  to  Chu-Chu  in  any  case,  but  I  wouldn't  have  acted 
so  quickly  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you.  Chu-Chu  might 
easily  have  served  you  some  ugly  trick  —  throttled 
you  and  thrown  you  into  the  ditch  on  the  way  home, 
or  some  such  pleasantry.  He  poisoned  Ivan  merely 
because  he  was  in  the  way.  If  anything  had  hap 
pened  to  you,  sweetheart,  I  should  have  wanted  to 


332  THE    CLOSING    NET 

kill  first  Chu-Chu  and  then  myself."  And  I  meant 
it,  too.  I  was  really  in  love  with  Rosalie. 

She  said  very  little  after  that,  and  presently  wished 
me  good-bye  and  went  away;  but  she  dropped  a  kiss 
on  my  forehead  before  she  went  out. 

From  this  time  on,  both  Rosalie  and  Soeur  Anne 
Marie  came  often  to  see  me.  It  took  the  little 
Mother  Superior  some  time  to  get  over  the  effect  of 
the  tale,  which  I  had  let  Rosalie  tell  her;  but  Soeur 
Anne  Marie  had  served  through  the  Franco-Prussian 
War  as  a  nurse  and  was  no  rabbit-heart. 

Then  one  day  she  said  to  me:  "  Mon  ami,  you 
must  be  careful.  Our  Rosalie  is  losing  her  heart." 

"  She  already  has  mine,  ma  Mere,"  I  answered, 
"  though  it's  not  much  of  a  bargain  for  her." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure,"  she  answered.  "  Though 
your  life  has  been  wrongly  lived,  I  am  convinced 
that  your  heart  is  clean.  Do  you  really  love  the 
poor  child?  " 

"  I  love  her  dearly,"  I  answered,  "  and  I  would 
ask  her  to  marry  me  if  I  were  sure  we  might  never 
have  to  reap  some  of  my  early  sowing.  A  man  with 
such  a  past  as  mine  can  never  be  too  confident  of  the 
future.  I  speak  only  of  my  sins  against  the  Eighth 
Commandment,  ma  Mere." 

She  was  silent  and  thoughtful  for  a  little  while, 
then  answered: 

"  Rosalie  loves  you,  and  I  do  not  think  she  will 
ever  be  happy  without  you.  If,  later  on,  some  echo 
from  your  past  should  come  to  bring  pain  to  you 
both,  she  will  at  least  have  had  her  hour  and  tasted 
of  the  fulness  of  life."  She  smiled.  "  We  re- 
ligieusef  are  sometimes  given  the  power  to  predicate 


INTO    THE    LIGHT  333 

the  lives  of  those  dear  to  us  —  and  there  is  also  much 
in  prayer.  You  will  both  be  garmented  in  my 
prayers,  whether  I  am  here  or  —  elsewhere;  and, 
so  far,  these  prayers  have  not  proved  fruitless." 

There  was  no  denying  this.  I  could  quite  imagine 
the  secret-service  angel,  detailed  from  divine  head 
quarters  in  response  to  the  good  woman's  applica 
tion,  sitting  beside  Rosalie  in  her  taxi  and  sending 
her  back  from  Meudon  to  Paris  when  Chu-Chu 
wanted  her  to  wait.  The  same  angel  might  also 
have  whispered  in  my  ear  not  to  taste  the  peach  ice 
cream  for  politeness'  sake.  And  I'm  sure  that  he 
sent  me  about  my  business  the  night  I  said  good-bye 
to  Rosalie  in  her  studio  apartment. 

My  heart  grew  warm  as  I  thought  of  Rosalie.  I 
knew  that  I  loved  her  and  wanted  her  for  my  wife  — 
Rosalie,  sweet  and  brave  and  true-hearted,  and,  so 
far  as  that  went,  as  physically  perfect  as  a  man  could 
wish.  I  thought  again  of  the  night  when  I  had  held 
her  in  my  arms,  kissing  and  comforting  her;  and  last 
of  all,  though  it  should  have  been  first,  I  thought  of 
how  she  had  stood  by  me  when,  spent  and  bloodless, 
I  had  lurched  into  her  taxi  at  the  gate  of  the  Baron 
von  Hertzfeld. 

Then,  one  day  in  the  autumn,  when  I  was  begin 
ning  to  get  round  a  little,  Rosalie  came  to  me  and 
said: 

"  To-morrow  will  be  Sunday,  and  we  are  going 
for  a  little  picnic  —  just  you  and  myself  and  Soeur 
Anne  Marie.  We  will  take  the  car  and  run  out  to 
the  forest  of  Marly  for  luncheon  in  the  woods. 
Soeur  Anne  Marie  is  very  worn  from  the  heat  of  the 
summer  and  it  will  do  her  good.  You  are  strong 


334  THE    CLOSING    NET 

enough  to  drive  now,  and  I  will  take  a  day  off  and 
wear  a  pretty  gown  and  be  grande  dame." 

So  off  we  went  the  next  day,  the  three  of  us  in  the 
little  car,  which  I  drove  down  a  long  forest  alley  with 
a  Gothic  roof  of  burnished  bronze.  We  spread  our 
napkins  in  a  little  glade  and  had  a  wonderful  de 
jeuner  of  hors  d'oeuvres,  all  sorts,  and  poulet  froid, 
with  salad  and  galantine,  and  game  pates  and  pic 
kled  truffles  and  dessert.  I  looked  after  the  wines 
myself  —  an  old  Amontillado  and  a  very  dry  cham 
pagne  that  was  given  me  by  a  friend  who  owned 
some  hectares  of  vines  near  Epernay,  and  an  old 
Beaune  with  a  wonderful  bouquet;  and  afterwards 
coffee  which  Rosalie  made  on  a  percolator,  and  some 
liqueur. 

After  luncheon,  Soeur  Anne  Marie  informed  us 
that  age  possessed  its  privileges,  and  she  proposed 
also  to  show  the  bon  Dleu  her  appreciation  of  the 
good  things  she  had  eaten  and  drunk  by  withdrawing 
a  little  while  from  the  material  world  in  a  peaceful 
nap.  So  we  made  her  comfortable  with  a  rug  and  a 
cushion  from  the  car,  and  Rosalie  and  I  strolled  off 
under  the  ancient  trees.  We  came  to  the  top  of  a 
high  bank  on  the  edge  of  the  big  route,  and  here  we 
seated  ourselves  on  the  edge  of  a  laurel  thicket  to 
talk  and  watch  the  big  cars  that  kept  whizzing  by. 

It  was  a  perfect  day  in  October,  and  the  old-gold 
canopy  overhead  screened  a  sky  as  blue  as  the  eyes  of 
a  little  child.  Rosalie  looked  at  me  and  smiled. 
Her  cheeks  were  red  to-day,  and  her  eyes  the  colour 
of  the  autumn  leaves.  She  wore  a  tailor  suit  of 
dark-blue  serge  and  a  pretty  hat,  and  looked  alto 
gether  the  stylish  femme  du  monde.  Nobody  could 


INTO    THE    LIGHT  335 

ever  have  recognised  her  as  the  pretty,  piquant  chauf- 
feuse  so  often  to  be  seen  perched  behind  her  wheel 
in  front  of  the  big  hotels. 

There  was  no  trace  of  impudence  about  her  this 
day.  Though  happy,  so  far  as  one  could  see,  she 
was  very  quiet,  and  there  was  a  hint  of  wistfulness 
in  her  eyes.  Poor  little  girl!  Life  had  never 
brought  her  much  joy,  and  I  wondered,  as  I  often 
had  before,  at  her  bright,  brave  heart,  for  the  sum 
mer  had  been  a  hard  one  and  most  women  would 
have  been  worn  out  and  despondent;  but  Rosalie 
possessed  an  elastic  strength  —  or  fine  mettle,  one 
might  better  say — and  the  instant  the  strain  was 
relaxed  she  flew  back  as  straight  and  tireless  as  be 
fore. 

Our  eyes  met  —  and  all  at  once  I  realised  my 
want  of  her  and  the  deep,  honest  love  I  had  come  to 
feel  for  her.  Rosalie's  hand  was  resting  on  her 
knee,  and  I  took  it  in  mine  and  raised  it  to  my  lips. 

"  Rosalie,  dear,"  I  said,  "  I  love  you !  Will  you 
marry  a  reformed  thief?  " 

She  turned  to  me  slowly,  and  one  could  see  how 
delicately  the  colour  faded  in  her  lovely  face.  Her 
lips  trembled,  and  the  tears  gushed  into  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Frank  —  you  are  sure  you  want  me?  "  she 
said.  "There  is  —  no  one  else?  You  are  sure, 
sure,  sure?  " 

"Nobody  else,  sweetheart  —  now  or  ever!"  I 
answered,  and  gathered  her  into  my  arms. 


THE    END 


Date:     Tue^      93  10:  :  24 

Subject:  «ijBpIe»»  REQUEST 
Deliver  to   :  UCSD  CENTRAL 
Shelvin9  *   •  A   000  073  071  3 

Item  Information  1874_1933 

'          "«  Henr,  C. 


487853MC 


Terminal 


Lib  card    NONE 

i  IU.  -  BORROWING 


A     000  073  071     3 


